I Want To Hold Your Hand
by McRaider
Summary: Sometimes, Kurt feels like the world is out to kick him when he's down, but even he didn't see this coming. What happens to the Hummel family when Kurt is nearly killed just when Burt's woken from his heart attack. Kurt Big Bang
1. Chapter 1

_**I Want To Hold Your Hand**_ by andromeda05

**Word Count:** 55,853  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Kurt Hummel, Burt Hummel, Noah Puckerman, other Glee characters  
><strong>Pairing(s):<strong> Puck/Kurt, Burt/Carole  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Hurt/comfort, angst, drama, romance  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG13 (chapter 8 is rated R)  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Graphic images of a hate crime, can cause trigger so please be aware. Spoilers up to "Grilled Cheesus" and Torchwood spoilers ("episodes that never occurred").  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Burt Hummel's mind had flown to one thing and one thing only as he collapsed to the ground-his son, his beautiful child and how his death would destroy the boy.  
><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong> _This time frame is a little different. Instead of Puck going to juvie during the show, he went to juvie in the summer instead. I adored Grilled Cheesus. It was beautiful, but I desperately wanted more! I think there could've been so much more to it, so this is a combination of that and some other things I've wanted to write for awhile. Also, I'm pretty medically savvy. I understand terms, I worked around the medical field long enough to know what really happens, so I tried to make this as medically specific as possible. That said, what I don't know I looked up on . This ultimately became more AU than I truly intended, so you'll find parts of the episode in here, but then it took on a mind of its own._  
><strong>Betas:<strong> nieded and sparkysparky

.net/kbb/r1/niniblack_ Banner # 1 from the Big Bang Challenge for my piece (I will post the second one in that chapter)

**Chapter One**

_"H_ey Dad!" the slightly high-pitched voice called as he walked through the door of the garage with a brown paper bag in hand.

Burt Hummel smiled. "Hey there's my boy," he greeted as he moved the oil drip tray under the car.

"You forgot your breakfast. Suzanne Somers says that skipping breakfast is suicide," Kurt scolded.

Burt rolled his eyes and took the bag from his son, not really caring what anyone said about his eating habits. He was disappointed when he opened it. "Where's my usual?"

"Two Slim Jims and a Coke—"

"Yeah, breakfast of champions," Burt stated indignantly.

The young boy glared at his father. "Dad, you're not a kid anymore. You have to start eating better."

Burt responded with a non-committal grunt and placed the bag behind his son on a work bench. "S'pose with enough hot sauce this'll be good." While his son was his son, some days he tried the patience of a saint. Going back to his oil tray he glanced at him once more. "Don't forget Friday Night Dinner's at six instead of seven this week. Finn and Carole are coming over, and Carole has to work the night shift."

'Great,' Kurt thought. 'More quality time with my not-brother.' He didn't mind Finn, but honestly he still felt like he was getting shoved out of the way when Finn was around. He knew his father didn't mean it to feel that way, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking that. "I can't make it. It's the Sing-A-Long Sound of Music down at La Theatre," Kurt stated, daring his father to respond.

"Right and last week you had to camp out all night for those Grey's Anatomy DVDs."

Kurt was appalled. "Season six, Dad."

"Kurt, these Friday Night Dinners are a tradition in this family, one your mother started before..." Burt stopped and looked at his son, a little frustrated with the child.

"Dad, I'm a teenager. Friday nights are kind of a big deal to me. Anyway, why are you making me feel guilty about this? I understand how important the relationship is between you and Carole."

"This isn't about me and Carole," Burt snapped. He sighed and shook his head. "The point is, Kurt, those dinners are sacred, and the whole point of having something sacred is that they take precedence over everything else."

"Well the Sound of Music is sacred to me."

Burt felt the anger flare through his veins. "You think I don't know that? Wasn't I the one who bought you that Maria Bonnet for you when you were six?"

"For the love of Gaga," Kurt muttered, earning a glare from his father.

"Let's face it Kurt, if we don't have those dinners, then we don't see one another. If we don't schedule it, it doesn't happen and we go right by one another! We don't share a lot Kurt," Burt stated angrily. He didn't add that he was afraid his son was going to grow up, leave the city, and forget his father. He wasn't going to share that he felt like his son was pulling away and that he missed the brat some days. Burt couldn't help but miss the days when he'd been everything to his son.

He could still remember holding his son for the very first time, and the astounding feeling of love he'd felt in those first few moments. There was something truly terrifying about watching a woman give birth. His mother had once told him that it was beautiful after everything was finished, but Burt had spent seventeen hours watching his wife cry, yell and scream in pain. Not to mention clearly lose the ability to control a majority of her bodily functions. He wasn't exactly sure what part of that was beautiful. Then he was handed the tiny preemie baby.

"Oh..." he whispered, looking down at the child. The infant had a tuft of dark brown hair, and his eyes were blue. A nurse had explained all babies were born with blue eyes for the first several weeks. Burt looked over at his sleeping wife. Angie had been through a lot. The doctors said she'd sleep for a few hours before she had to wake up and breast feed. While the baby was a preemie, he was only three weeks early, causing the doctors said he may have a slightly weakened immune system, but otherwise he looked perfect.

His face was bright red from screaming so there was no question he had a set of lungs on him. "Hey little guy," Burt whispered, running one of his fingers down the infant's cheek. The baby stopped crying and stared up at Burt, occasionally taking a few shaky breathes. Burt was astounded by how large his finger was in comparison to the cheek. He felt his heart ache and swell all at once as he studied the baby.

"Mr. Hummel?" a soft voice spoke to him. He glanced up and smiled at a nurse. "Would you like us to take your son to the nursery?"

"I..." He shook his head slowly, looking back down at his son. No, he wasn't ready. He was terrified that if he let go of his only child, he'd be gone suddenly. Burt wasn't ready to let this little one go yet.

She smiled warmly. "It's okay Mr. Hummel. I'll come back. Most fathers can't give up their babies' right after they're born." With another soft smile she slipped out of the room, leaving father and son alone.

Burt snuggled his son a little closer, making sure he felt safe and warm, started to hum. It was Angie's favorite song. "Oh I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand, I wanna hold your hand." He continued to sing the song softly and slowly, not as it had been originally done..

"Are you even paying attention to me?" Kurt snapped his father out of his memories. Kurt questioned as he looked at his father.

"Sorry. What did you say?"

Kurt gave a mighty huff and began to walk off. "Maybe we could do it Thursday or something," Kurt muttered as he turned around to face his father.

Burt shook his head. They'd never missed a Friday Night Dinner up until last week, not even when Angie had passed away. "Kurt, I gotta tell you, I'm really disappointed in you right now."

Kurt didn't even bother to reply, shaking his head as he left for the Navigator. Burt sighed as he looked back at the paper bag. He wished he knew when he'd gone from the hero and the daddy to just another guy Kurt saw in passing. Closing his eyes, he sat down heavily in a chair nearby. He could remember everything about Kurt when he'd been little. He smiled sadly at the thought. Glancing around to see no one was around, he pulled his wallet out and pulled a picture out that he had hidden behind Kurt's most current school photo. The picture held a tiny little baby, cuddled in his arms. Burt had been younger then. He'd had hair. Burt put the picture back in his wallet and headed back to work.

Burt stood by the counter a few hours later, waiting on a customer. "Well it looks like we have two of what you need in stock, but let me just check. I don't trust the guy who does our inventory," Burt forced a smile. His chest was aching. He'd been warm for the past several minutes. He couldn't ever remember this kind of pain sparking in his chest and the back of his shoulders.

"Oh yeah, who's that?" the gentleman asked.

"Me," Burt joked. The man laughed as Burt smiled and turned away, grimacing as he felt his stomach roll.

"You okay?" the man questioned.

Burt gave a nod. "Yeah, just a little indigestion. Don't buy burritos from the gas station down the street." Just as he was about to move from the desk he felt his world begin to tilt. He groaned and a second later everything sounded far away and muffled. He was barely even aware as he hit the ground, too focused on the pain erupting in his chest.

"Sir?" someone called out to him. He struggled, looking around. The pain exploded. "Sir, do you have any relatives?"

"Kurt?" Burt groaned, almost crying at the pain as it began to wash over him.

"Who's Kurt?" a voice asked.

"It's his son," Jimmy replied, looking terrified from where he'd been kneeling behind. "I'll call the kid." Jimmy had known Burt Hummel since high school. He'd been there to see Kurt in the first week, and he'd helped Burt teach Kurt everything they knew about cars.

Burt heard sirens nearby. "We're taking him to Lima Memorial." the voice above him spoke. Burt was confused. He'd only been on the ground for a few seconds...right?

"Thanks," Jimmy replied as he watched his best friend being lifted into the back of an ambulance, an oxygen mask over his pale and clammy face. "Please don't leave that boy," Jimmy whispered softly.

It wasn't much of a secret that the Hummel men were as tight as two could be. Despite their fair share of disagreements and things they didn't understand about one another, Kurt adored his father and Burt adored his son as if he'd hung the stars and the moon in the sky himself.

The drive to the high school was in the opposite direction of the hospital than the garage, but Jimmy would break every speed limit in the area if it meant getting to Little Hummel quicker. He thanked whoever was listening that Burt had helped repair every police car on the force. They rarely got pulled over.

He pulled up in front of the school, hurrying into the main office. "What class is Kurt Hummel in?" he demanded.

Emma Pillsbury looked at the grease covered man and grimaced at the grease on his hands and shirt. "Who wants to know?" she asked, almost nervous.

"I'm Jimmy. He knows me. I work with him at the shop... It's about his father."

"I'll take you to him," Emma replied.

She guided him down the hallway. Running into Will on the way was an accident, but he quickly joined the mini entourage. Jimmy stepped into the doorway of the French classroom to see the boy talking to some jock. Jimmy smiled weakly. That was always Kurt. He was just like his momma. "Kurt," Jimmy whispered.

Kurt turned his head, looking at Jimmy. He smiled at first then registered who he was looking at. "Jimmy?"

"We need to go, son."

Kurt glanced at Emma and Will, and then nodded ever so slowly. He followed them into the hallway. Kurt looked around before he looked up at Jimmy. "What happened? Is he okay—"

Jimmy held up his hand. "He had a heart attack, son. Burt was with a customer when it happened, so we were able to get him help quickly. He was alive when they left."

Kurt was shaking as his legs began to go numb. He felt his head begin to whirl. Jimmy reached out and helped lower Kurt to the ground and put the boy's head between his legs. "Breathe, Kurt," he soothed.

"We should head to the hospital—" Will suggested.

Jimmy cut Will off. "Look here, buddy. I've known this boy since he was less than knee high. He's the only kid I got. Look, this ain't something Burt would just want forced on Kurt. Give him a minute to process."

Kurt felt overwhelmed. "Jimmy...is my dad...?"

"He's still alive, Kurt, but we need to go to the hospital. I'll drive you, son."

Kurt gave a weak nod, gripping Jimmy's greased hands. Both Will and Emma were a little surprised at how easily Kurt followed the man. Even as they began to move down the hallway, Kurt leaned into Jimmy's touch a little, as if gaining strength from him. "He's strong, Kurt. You know your dad."

Will and Emma decided it might be best to follow. With Kurt tucked in Jimmy's car, they followed in Emma's car. Kurt was sitting just staring out the window when something hit him. "I need to call Carole."

Jimmy drove the twenty-minute drive to Lima Memorial, feeling like it was an eternity. Meanwhile Kurt dialed. "Carole Hudson," he spoke into the phone.

"Son, I can't stay with you long at the hospital, okay? I have to go work in the shop."

"Thank you for bringing me."

Jimmy nodded numbly and continued to drive. Kurt finally heard the phone ring and he waited. "Carole, it's Kurt."

"Sweetheart, what's the matter? You never call me."

Kurt bit his lip, taking a shaky breath. "Dad just had...had a heart attack," he replied, as if hating himself for admitting it.

"Oh god, sweetie, are you okay?"

Kurt began to nod but then suddenly shook his head. "No...can you come?"

"I'll be there as quickly as I can, promise."

"Thank you." He squeezed his eyes, trying to force the tears back further.

"Kurt, your dad loves you."

Kurt nodded. "I know. I...I..." He stopped suddenly unable to say the words.

Carole clearly understood. "I love you too, sweetie. I'll be there as soon as I can."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

It felt like the longest day of Kurt's life as he sat waiting to learn more about his father's condition. He'd been there for two interminable hours. Carole had arrived a long half hour into that, and Jimmy had left an hour ago. He'd offered Kurt a brief hug and headed back to the shop, promising to call him if he needed anything. Kurt took a slow breath and leaned his head against the wall as he recalled sitting in this very same waiting room a long time ago.

The two Hummel men had sat silently in the emergency room. Kurt sat pressed deeply into his father's lap, unsure what was really going on. All he remembered was his mommy crying out, and then Daddy screaming for help at the garage. From there, everything had been a blur.

Burt, for his part, was clutching his son close, terrified to hear about his wife's prognosis or worse to find out she'd miscarried right at the end of her first trimester. "Daddy," a small voice caught his attention. He looked down at the child he was clutching like a life line.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"You're squishing me," the child squirmed.

Burt immediately lessened his hold, allowing the boy to breathe a little easier. "Sorry, son."

"Daddy?"

Burt wasn't sure he was suddenly up for Kurt's thousand-questions-a-day moment right now. He was scared. He hated hospitals. Nothing good ever felt like it happened in them. "Yeah, buddy?"

"Is Mommy having the baby?"

His pale blue-green eyes burned with tears at that question. "No, kiddo... no she isn't," he replied, unsure how to explain that she may never have it now.

"Daddy...I'm scared..." He clutched onto his father.

Burt began to hum the song he'd sung to Kurt since he was an infant, allowing his deep occasionally off pitch voice to carry 'I Wanna Hold your Hand' in hopes of calming the boy.

"Mr. Hummel?" a voice startled him out of his concentration on his son. A doctor stood a few feet away. Burt stood up, holding his son to his chest still.

"How's... How's my wife?"

The doctor took a slow breath. "She suffered a miscarriage. We're finishing up the surgery now. I wanted to make sure you knew what was happening."

"Do you know why?"

"Sometimes it's nature's way of getting rid of too many imperfections in a fetus. We don't have a specific cause yet. But the more important thing at this point is she's going to struggle for awhile. She may be upset, angry and cry. Hold her, support her, but don't forget yourself."

Burt looked at him, "What do you mean? She's the one who's sick—"

The doctor nodded. "Yes, but you just lost a daughter, Burt."

His eyes grew wide. "It...it was a girl."

"Yes. Take care of your family. If you'd like us to call anyone, just let us know."

Burt shook his head. "Our parents are on their way."

The doctor shook Burt's hand. "I'll come get you when we've got her settled, and we're going to keep her here a night or two just to make sure she doesn't develop an infection."

"Thank you." Burt sank to the chair, still holding Kurt who looked confused. He looked down at his inquisitive son. Son. As Burt sat there, he realized that despite Kurt's femininity he was still his son. This child had been a girl. Burt had desperately wanted a daughter, and he had just lost her.

"Daddy, you're crying." His daddy never cried, not even at tear-jerkers Mommy and he watched.

Burt quickly wiped his cheeks, feeling sick. "Kurt, we need to talk."

"Okay, 'bout what?"

"Mommy."

Kurt seemed to understand this was serious. "Is she gonna be okay?"

Burt closed his eyes. "Mommy's body is going to be okay, but she suffered something called a miscarriage... It means she lost your sister." Burt paused, trying to gauge his son's response. "Do you understand?"

Kurt looked at him, as if trying to understand, but he couldn't so he shook his head no. "No sister?"

Burt felt his eyes sting at the simplicity of Kurt's words. "That's right, buddy, Mommy isn't pregnant anymore. She lost your sister... Your sister passed away." God how did you explain death to a child just barely done with toddlerhood?

"Oh," he murmured in disbelief, his eyes filling with tears. "I wanted to be a big brother."

Burt bit his lip. "I know, buddy, but it's okay to cry if you want to."

"Do...do you wanna cry, Daddy?"

Burt nodded and tears started to slide down his cheeks. His son threw his arms around Burt's neck and cried, letting Burt do the same against his shoulder. The two men lost themselves in grief for a few moments.

Shaking his head slowly, Kurt wiped the tears from his eyes at the memory of his mother. He glanced over at Will and Emma who remained with him next hour. At first he'd paced with a nervous twitch of fear. Every time he sat in a waiting room, it seemed to end in tragedy.

Suddenly Kurt realized he had to call one more person. He grabbed his phone, getting a glare from one of the nurses, and quickly dialed one last number. Hopefully she recognized him. It had been a long two years since he'd seen her, but Burt did his best to make sure Kurt remained in touch with Angie's side of the family.

"Hello?" a voice on the other end of the phone said.

Kurt felt his world stop. She sounded like his mother. He took a shaky breath trying to think of what to say. She repeated her word again, before he was able to force himself to speak into the phone. "It's Kurt."

"Sweetie, what's wrong you? You sound as if you've been crying, dear."

"Grandma..." He took a shaky breath.

Carole was watching him and gently reached out to rub his back. He was about to withdraw, but for a moment he almost felt comforted. He took another slow breath and spoke. "Grandma...Dad's had a heart attack."

"Oh goodness, dear are you all right? Is he...is he?"

"I don't know." Kurt ran a hand through his hair before realizing he'd just messed it up...then realized it didn't really matter. "They haven't told us anything. I'm scared."

"Take a breath, sweetheart. I'll be there as soon as I can be."

"You don't have to," he began. She really didn't. Burt wasn't her son. She'd never loved the mechanic. But she'd always loved her grandson, and Kurt had to admit even a small piece of his mother would bring him some comfort right now.

"Darling, I may not have loved my daughter's choice of a husband, but I wouldn't ever wish harm on him. You certainly needn't go through this alone. I'll be there in a few days."

"Yes ma'am," he wanted to stop crying, but found himself unable to stop the tears

"Oh darling, I love you too and I miss you dearly. I only wish your grandfather were well enough for travel. Don't you worry. Grandma is coming."

Kurt hung up the phone and buried his face in his hands, almost thankful this time as Carole continued to rub his shoulders. He was about to pull away and try to compose himself when the doctor stepped out. "Mr. Hummel?" he asked quietly.

"Mr. Hummel's my dad. How is he?" Kurt questioned as he stood. Every muscle in his body shook. "Is he dead?"

"He's alive. But I wish I had better news."

"What do you mean?"

"He's in a coma."

"I thought he had a heart attack?" Will replied as he squeezed Kurt's shoulders.

The doctor gave a brief nod. "Brought on by an arrhythmia that caused a lack of blood and oxygen to his brain. That's what caused him to lose consciousness and that's what's keeping him that way."

Kurt shook his head, feeling his world crumble. "I don't know what you just said. When's he going to wake up?"

"We don't know," the doctor replied.

"I want to see my father," Kurt demanded.

The doctor nod and led them to the room. Kurt froze for a moment, looking at the figure in the hospital bed. Kurt pushed inside, aware the doctor, Schuester, Ms. Pillsbury and Carole followed him. It felt surreal.

"I'd like to be alone with my dad," he whispered. He was hoping to rid himself of Ms. Pillsbury and Schuster, he didn't particularly want Carole there either, but he wouldn't be opposed to some company.

"Kurt, I really don't think it's a good idea to leave you alone right now," Emma offered.

"Please leave," he choked as he reached down to grip his father's hand. Carole stepped up to him and squeezed his shoulder.

"I'm going downstairs to get some coffee, you want any?"

Giving a quick nod, he waited until they were gone and then spoke, "Dad, can you hear me? Dad if you can hear me squeeze my hand. I'm holding yours right now. All you have to do is squeeze." He waited for a response.

Tears began to track down his face. Kurt didn't even consider what damage it would do to his face in the morning. Instead he felt the ache in his heart. "Please, Dad." He forced his voice to remain stable. He didn't have anyone left. Burt's parents had passed away years ago. He was all alone. "Dad," he cried as he sat down in a nearby chair and gripped his hand. Guilt raced through him at the idea that he'd turned down a stupid dinner to be elsewhere.

"I...I'm a terrible son," he whispered. "I shouldn't have said that this morning. The Sound of Music will have its time next year...every year...I." He closed his eyes more tears escaping to follow the trails down his cheeks.

"Please don't die. I don't have anyone else," he whispered as he leaned his head against his father's hand.

Kurt wasn't sure how long he cried or how long it had been before he slipped into a troubled sleep. He was halfway through some terrible nightmare that ended in him burying his father when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped at the feeling and whirled around. He grimaced as he banged his hand against the bed rail. "Carole," he managed before he stood, allowing her to pull him into her arms.

"I'm here, sweetie," she replied "I brought you some coffee. How are you?"

"Me, I'm fine," he lied. How was he supposed to answer? He felt as though everything he had left in the world was dead. Sure he had friends, and he had Carole who was almost family. But his father was the most important person in his world.

"Kurt, sweetie, he's your dad. You're not fine, and you don't have to be."

Kurt looked at her. He wanted to be upset at her for being so nice but he couldn't because she loved him too, and he knew that. He wasn't the only person struggling. "You didn't drive yourself did you?"

She smiled. "You sound just..." she stopped, "sound like your dad. No, I had a friend of mine drop me off. You?"

"Jimmy dropped me off...S'pose the rest of Glee knows."

She sighed. "I...I haven't told Finn yet. I wanted to see you first. Make sure that's what you wanted. Sweetie, your dad is your family, and it's okay if you weren't immediately ready to share him. I figured I'd give you some time before you had to share him with Finn or anyone else."

Kurt gave a very small nod. "Thanks. This is where my sister and mom died."

Carole looked up at him in surprise. "Sister?"

"I've forgotten over time. Mom miscarried when I was four. We sat out in that waiting room and cried."

She didn't want to say she was sorry. Of course she was, but Carole had always felt like 'sorry' was just an excuse for nothing else to say. Instead, she reached out and gripped Kurt's hand. "Your father is very proud of you."

"Shouldn't be. I've chickened out of last Friday night's dinner...a tradition we've had since I was little. I suddenly can't give him the time of day."

"Can I ask why?"

"Guilt," Kurt replied quietly. "It's my fault he kicked Finn out, and ultimately you—my—"

"Hold it right there, mister." Carole stated. "Your father and I talked, and now that you've told us everything and Finn has told us everything...we decided perhaps we'd gone too fast. He and I agreed together that we'd do this slowly. You shouldn't feel guilty over Finn's bad choices, and I'd hope you would've moved on by now from your poor choices."

"Sorry."

Carole sighed. "Kurt, are you okay with me eventually marrying your father?"

Kurt closed his eyes. "Not yet...I'll get there," no doubt Carole could see the honesty in his eyes. "Please don't be upset," his pleaded.

Carole tilted her head studying the teen. "Kurt, sweetie, I'm not going to be upset. You've had your father all to yourself for eight years. It's an adjustment period, and that's okay. Finn didn't know his dad, so he doesn't have to adjust quite the same. You remember your mother, but he has no memories of his father."

Looking at the floor Kurt nodded slowly. "I miss Dad," he gripped his father's hand again.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This story is completely finished, I'll update every other day. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

**Chapter Three**

"Kurt," a soft voice called to him. He felt someone nudge his shoulder. "Kurt." His faded blue eyes slid open and he looked up at Nurse Nancy. "Honey, you need to go home. Visitation ended hours ago. You shouldn't be here."

He groaned and shook his head in attempt to clear some of the sleep. "I...I can't go home," he whispered, rubbing his hands over his face and grimacing at the feel of a little stubble on his chin. He needed to shave. He remembered his dad poking fun at him the first time Kurt had admitted to needing a razor. "Son," he'd said, "There are some things even you can't avoid."

"are you staying with anyone?" Nancy asked, snapping him out of his reprieve.

Kurt looked at her. He'd rather stay at his house than be pitied at someone else's. "I can go home, thanks." He paused, realizing he wasn't exactly sure how to get home. His father had been brought in by ambulance, and his baby was still at school. "What time are visiting hours?"

Nancy felt sad that she'd asked this poor kid to get out suddenly. "7-to-10, but you're cute so you can probably get away with 6-to-midnight. Just don't spread the word, okay?"

Kurt smiled. "You'll call if..." His voice trailed off not wanting to think such things.

"Yes, Kurt. We'll contact you if anything changes. Absolutely. You need to take care of yourself too. When he wakes up, he's not going to be healthy in a day. He's got a long road and he's going to need you."

"I know, I'm fine."

She didn't believe him, but she smiled. "I can call a taxi if you'd like. I'll even pay—"

"You don't—"

"It's fine. Do you have a car at home?"

"No, but my friend Finn can come get me tomorrow morning."

She studied him hard for a moment. "Kurt, are you sure there isn't anyone I can contact for you?"

He forced a smile, "My grandmother is already on her way. Please don't worry. I'll be fine. I have friends." He didn't add that none of them were overly helpful, or that he wouldn't call them out of fear of being rejected.

"All right," she didn't look like she believed him, but gave him the benefit of the doubt all the same. "I'll call you a cab. I'm paying and don't argue."

Kurt sighed as he looked at his father. He hadn't eaten since breakfast. He was exhausted and scared, but he couldn't fathom hunger right now. He was struggling to keep it together. He was tired, but every time he fell asleep he felt the hinges coming undone, ultimately leading him to nightmares.

He gripped his father's hand and looked at the man. "I have to go, Dad, but I'll be back tomorrow...Promise me you won't do anything stupid?" he questioned. He wasn't an idiot. He knew his father wouldn't answer, but the ever looming silence in the room made him feel uneasy.

Leaning over he pressed a kiss to his father's forehead. "Just...Don't let Mom lure you away with her gorgeousness, okay?" With a hint of a smile he walked out of the room where Nancy met and walked him down to the taxi waiting at the front entrance.

When Kurt arrived home he looked at the house and felt his stomach curl slightly, "Thanks." The nurse had paid as promised despite his arguing. He stepped out into the cool night and moved towards the door. He fished his keys out of his pocket and stuck it into the hole. With a twist he pushed the door open and felt as if his world was collapsing. It was pitch black and empty. Until this moment he hadn't really thought about how empty it was going to be. He'd just automatically assumed he'd be at home and everything would be like normal. But the problem was that this house was meant for more than one seventeen-year-old boy. He flicked the light switch from the entrance way, but the light didn't come on. Kurt sighed. His father had said he'd change the damn thing.

Stepping into the kitchen, Kurt opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a new light bulb. He grabbed a chair, stepped up on it and began to unscrew the other light. He then screwed the new one in and felt a little better as the entrance way was illuminated. He got down from the chair and carried it back into the kitchen dining room. He opened the fridge and felt his stomach curdle at the idea of food. Instead he simply closed the door and headed into the living room, overwhelmed by the familiar smell of grease and the cologne his father used.

Kurt closed his eyes. The shakes were back. He didn't want to be downstairs. He didn't think he'd sleep anyway. Instead he headed upstairs and looked at the bed. If the living room had smelled of his father, his father's bedroom was even worse; it smelled of his mom and his dad. Feeling the pain well in his chest, it was almost suffocating as he opened up the drawers just enough to release the smell of her perfume, but not enough to air them out. He kicked off his shoes and slid under the covers, pressing his face into his father's pillow. Sleep never came, but the tears did.

Sleep was something that those who didn't have nightmares did regularly. For Kurt, he'd always had a few more nightmares than the average person, even as a little boy. He could remember running to hide in his parent's bed during an especially bad one.

He hadn't slept at all that night. Instead he remained awake thinking, crying and hating how messed up his life kept getting. He skipped breakfast the next morning and told Carole he had a ride to school. He proceeded to walk to the school, not wanting to be an inconvenience to her.

Upon arriving, it was like no one knew. The jocks took immense joy in tossing him in the dumpster when no one was looking. Kurt lay there for a long moment, amidst the trash and closed his eyes, trying not to breath in the stench of rotted garbage. Tears burned his eyes. He wanted to blame it on the smell but couldn't because he'd never felt this upset over a dumpster toss. He was beginning to feel he belonged in here.

Several minutes later he pulled himself out—startled when a slushy immediately hit his face. He wiped the ice from his eyes and looked up to see Karofsky and Azimio grinning like morons at him. "Sorry, freak. Gotta catch up for yesterday!" they laughed.

Closing his eyes, Kurt walked away as quickly as he could. He headed into the bathroom and scrubbed up as best he could. He spent the remainder of his day not eating and desperately trying to stay awake. Every time he tried to focus on school his mind traveled back to the figure lying in the hospital bed: his father, the only person left in his whole world. Kurt wasn't sure how he was keeping sane at this point, but truth was he felt like he was only seconds away from losing it.

"Kurt, where were you after school yesterday? I thought we were going to the movies," Mercedes asked when they met up for lunch. Kurt froze in horror. There had been rumors all day that he'd done something bad, that he'd brought a gun to school or something equally as stupid and Neanderthal. Kurt looked at her, forcing back a wave of tears at the sheer thought of sharing this information. "My father..." He stopped. "I uh..." He looked around feeling dizzy and sick. He closed his eyes, and suddenly he was running to the girl's bathroom. He ran past various girls and heaved into the nearest toilet bowl, except nothing came up because it had been long over twenty-four hours since he'd eaten. He shivered as the door to his stall opened slightly to reveal Mercedes, Quinn and Tina.

"You look sick," Tina said handing him a damp paper towel.

"Promise me what I'm about to tell you doesn't leave here...I can't have Jacob Tweeting this," he murmured as he headed to the sink and quickly scrubbed at his face with his hands.

"Promise," the three girls chimed.

He looked at them, his three closest girlfriends. "My dad...had a heart attack yesterday afternoon."

"Oh god," Mercedes gasped while the other two whitened. "Is he...?"

"He's in a coma. They...they don't know if he'll make it." He forced down the thickness that had collected in his throat. He wouldn't cry. He was tired of feeling weak.

"Oh my God, Kurt are you all right?" It was an absurd question for Mercedes to ask. He was fine. It was his father. Hadn't she heard him? Yet even at those words he felt a small cackle fall from his lips. Perhaps it was bitterness, but he realized how wrong those words seemed directed at him.

"I'll be fine," he lied. He would always be fine. And just like that he forced a smile and stepped out of the bathroom, heading towards his locker paying no mind to the girls he'd just left behind.

Several hours later, Kurt closed his locker door and headed towards glee, knowing he'd be the first in the room, but he needed a few moments to himself. He hadn't been sitting there for very long when the other students began to file in. Brittany and Santana stepped up to him, offering him an odd book report about heart attacks.

"What the hell happened!" Finn demanded as he strode inside.

Kurt blanched. How dare Finn even think for a single moment he had the right to feel hurt. "My dad's in the hospital." Exhaustion filled his voice.

When Finn snapped that he'd only just heard, Kurt felt like someone had just slapped him. "Well, I'm sorry Finn. It didn't occur to me to call you because he's not your father!" he shouted, closing his eyes as another wave of dizziness hit him. He sighed heavily. He was struggling as it was and he didn't need Finn adding more guilt to the list of emotions.

"Look, I'm sorry. It's just he's the closest thing I have to a father, and I know it may not look like what everyone else has, but I thought we had a family."

Kurt stared at him for a minute, hating Finn for yet again making everything about him, but he removed his satchel from the seat beside him, allowing Finn to sit. He could understand Finn's plea. It was simple enough. Finn didn't have a father so he felt like he had to borrow Kurt's. It was only fair. Kurt knew he had the best father in the world, the way the man handled everything in stride. It didn't make it right, but it did make it easier to accept Finn's justification.

Mr. Schuster stepped into the room and began to explain everything that had been going on recently. Kurt watched as Finn tried to reach out and pat his shoulder, but Kurt shook his finger at him. He wouldn't break down now. He couldn't and he wouldn't let Finn be the one to cause it.

When Mercedes offered to sing to him, he was mildly surprised to find it was a religious song. How could she ever think he'd be okay with such a thing? He closed his eyes and shook his head in anger, he could barely remember a time when he'd ever remembered believing in a god.

Kurt became lost in his thoughts as Mercedes sang. He remembered his mother's funeral and his determination not to go because he didn't believe in God. At that time his belief had been a basic one, God had taken mommy away so god couldn't exist. Now it was more complex, it was thus easier to not believe than to blame his anger on anyone. He was brought out of his thoughts as Mercedes finished her song. They all wanted to offer him their prayers, but were stunned at his explosion against religion, but he had a rough time believing in a God who'd created him gay, then ridiculed him every day for it, and to make everything worse had stolen his sister, mother and possibly now his father. It was easier to not have anyone to blame than to have a God he only blamed when he was upset.

He stepped out of the room and leaned his back against the wall, head pressed to the cool stone and sighed. Kurt couldn't believe in someone like God. That would mean that he wasn't in control, and Kurt hated lack of control. Closing his eyes against another wave of burning tears, he fished his keys out of his satchel and headed out to his SUV, deciding he'd pass on glee today. He headed out to the parking lot, unaware that Puck had followed him.

"Hummel?" Kurt closed his eyes to the voice of his used to be tormentor. He could remember a time when they'd been friends. It had been back when he was Noah, before Puck ever came to be—when they were just little kids playing on the monkey bars. That's how he'd first met the mohawked boy. He'd fallen off the bars and on top of Noah.

What surprised him the most was that his current friends weren't the ones jumping to his aid...or at least not the aid he wanted. Rather it was those friends Kurt had assumed were long since lost. "Come to convert me to the Jewish way."

"Nah, why would you believe in God? You always walk around assuming you are one."

Kurt's eyes narrowed on Puck. "Why are you out here then? Joining your jocks in trash talking and dumpster diving?"

"You know if you're just gonna snap, I can go find another queen to throw around."

"Great, here come the fag jokes!"

"Hey!" Puck snapped, "I'm the one standing here, not anyone else. I may be an asshole, but I'm not about to kick a man when he's down."

"That's right, this from the guy who takes pleasure in tossing the weaker around and throwing pee balloons at people!"

Puck's eyes became darker "Maybe I just want to check and see if you're all right? I don't see anyone else making the same effort."

That stung because Kurt knew Puck was right. "Why you then? You're not exactly a giving guy. In fact you generally only take an interest if there's something in it for you, and trust me Puckerman, I'm not some girl who will throw myself at you. So no need to go all charity on me."

"It ain't charity. I doubt that Finn's smart enough to realize that you're all alone—"

"I'm not alone." Kurt cut him off, but the look in those brown eyes told him that Puck knew otherwise.

"Really, who's staying at the house with you?" The boy looked at him seriously. "Come on dude, I know we've had...our share of problems and I know I've made the past several years hell for you...but we used to be buds."

"No, Noah and I used to be friends. Puck and I haven't ever been friends. I hate Puck," Kurt answered honestly as he began to walk away. Puck reached out and grabbed the smaller teen. The glare that he received for it was withering. "Look, Hummel—"

"Why are you doing this? I'm already inches from losing everything, and now you're going to mock me with the only good thing I had after my mother's death."

Puck nodded, "Fair 'nough. I fucked up. I'll talk to Finn and the others to back off you if I can, but...seriously dude, I still have the same house number I had as a kid and you're still welcome to call it."

"Suddenly Puckerman has a kid and goes soft."

Puck smirked. "I'm still a studzilla."

"And delusional. Really, I'm fine. Now you might want to stop talking to me before the jocks come get you."

Puck nodded. "Okay, see you later, Hummel," he offered, but as he watched Kurt walk away, he knew better. While Kurt may not want to admit he was hurting, Puck saw the pain in his eyes.

Kurt walked away, gripping his books close to his chest. Puck's concern had been unexpected and it made Kurt nervous. He'd been friends with Noah, but that had been a long time ago. He wasn't sure he could handle all this ending with another lost friendship. He wasn't willing to be tossed out like someone's trash again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

There was a side of Noah Puckerman that most people didn't know. His psychologist had once told his mother that if it weren't for Puck knowing that he and Noah were the same person, the psychologist would've been inclined to label him with Multiple Personality Disorder. However Puck knew exactly who Noah was. He was weak, he was a wuss and he only came out when Puck let him, because that man...that was the man his father had beaten out of him.

Noah had been seven going on eight when his father left his mother with a baby on the way. Noah, despite the fear that his father would come back and beat the hell out of him, had cried for hours for his daddy to return. His daddy played football with him and laughed with him. But then his mother had demanded he help around the house, demanded that if she was stuck a Puckerman then she might as well make one into a man. Puck had been born steadily over the next several months. He'd stopped hanging with the fag and the new cripple and started hanging with fellow badasses. He started cursing, starting smoking, and he'd started throwing losers like fag and cripple in the dumpster. The acts made Noah feel like a terrible person, but it made Puck feel empowered.

His father had once told him that weak people let others beat them and leave them defenseless. Strong people tossed around their power and strength like they had plenty to share. Before the end of his ninth birthday, Noah had fully become Puck, the studzilla with a Mohawk. His mother's disappointment went sky high and his old friends were long gone

Puck entered his house and tossed his bag on the ground. The only people who still ever saw Noah were his little sister and occasionally Quinn during her pregnancy.

"Noah," his mother called out from the kitchen.

"Yeah Ma?" he replied as he slumped into the kitchen. He grabbed a cookie from the backing sheet-only to have his hand slapped. "Hey!" he mumbled as he shoved it in his mouth before she could take it back.

"You are useless some days," she grumbled as she looked at him. "I need you to watch your sister tonight. I've got a late shift."

"Whatever."

"Noah, please."

"Fine," he answered heaving a sigh.

"And get off the counter. How was school?" When her son didn't respond right away she looked at him, "Noah, are you ignoring me?"

"No, Ma." He paused for a moment he turned to her. "Can I ask you a hypocritical question—"

"Hypothetical son, and yes."

Puck shuffled for a moment, trying to decide how to start. "A guy from glee is kind of upset and the rest of the club isn't being very helpful."

His mother studied him for a long moment. "Noah, what did you do?"

"Nothing!" he growled. "Look, Hummel's dad had a heart attack, and because he doesn't believe in God, the rest of the gleeks are basically shunning him!"

Her eyes went wide. "Burt had a heart attack!"

Puck could only vaguely remember him from when he was a kid. "Yeah, yesterday. He's in a coma or somethin'." Puck shrugged. "Hummel didn't exactly share a lot of details."

"He has a name, Noah."

"Sorry, Ma," he said nonchalantly.

"Is he staying with anyone?"

"I don't know," Puck replied honestly.

She studied him, "Has he been eating?"

Puck sighed, realizing he hadn't done a much better job of being a friend than the others. "I don't know."

Puck winced slightly. "Well I'm pretty sure Mr. Hummel is staying in the hospital." At his mother's eye roll he heaved another sigh and answered correctly. "He says he is, but I don't believe him. I tried to talk to him but he kinda hates me."

"Why would he hate you?" she asked pointedly, glaring at her son. He mumbled something, as if embarrassed, and she closed her eyes. "I can't hear you."

"Because I may have bullied him for the past five years or so."

"Noah Puckerman! That boy has been nothing but friendly to you!" She shook her head. "It's unbelievable to me how you can change your mind so quickly from one moment to the next."

Puck watched as his mother stormed out of the room. His shoulders sagged slightly as he watched the kitchen door, half expecting his mother to come back in. Noah looked down at the floor, trying to remember the last time he'd taken the time to care about someone like he did his fellow gleeks. He'd meant what he'd said last year. glee was the best part of his day. He loved it. He'd known most of the kids in glee club since they were all little. Lima wasn't exactly a huge town, and it wasn't hard to know practically everyone in high school. Most of them had attended the same school for years.

Beth's birth had certainly taught him what it meant to love someone, but Puck was rapidly learning different things. From his brief stint in juvie this summer for driving his car into an ATM, he'd definitely learned that he was a mild badass compared to some of the people in that place. "Damn it, Hummel," Puck muttered grabbing his phone and texting the teen.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Kurt felt rage, pure levels of anger, something he hadn't felt for a long time—not since his mother had died—watching his so called friends force their religions on him and his father. He stepped inside the room. "What's going on here? I didn't ask you to do this!" Couldn't they see he was barely hanging on? He felt like he'd snap at any given moment. He knew it was their way of attempting to help, but he couldn't take their help right now.

Carole was tired, she hadn't slept at all last night. On top of that her worry for Kurt's well being and how he'd been looking lately worried her. "Honey, friends help each other out even if you don't ask," she reasoned. Kurt looked at her. Couldn't she understand he was breaking inside? He felt lost and alone.

"Mr. Kurt Hummel," he looked back at the Sikh.

"Dude if you wanted us to pray in Muslim, you could've just said so," Finn stated.

Once again, Finn's level of stupidity was astounding. "I'm not Muslim. I'm a Sikh."

"She's going to perform acupuncture to help assist the flow of blood to his brain. Ironically needles pierce the skin better than psalms. Please leave."

He watched her work carefully, placing the pins in various spots on his body. He was so exhausted. Closing his eyes, he felt his consciousness begin to slip. He shook his head once, trying to remain awake, but even as his eyes slid shut, he felt his world go dark as he fell asleep, allowing memories to take him over again.

The weather was surprisingly beautiful for the beginnings of winter in Ohio. A light snow had begun to fall, Christmas was nearing. Burt sat beside his comatose wife. Her brain had stopped functioning nearly three months ago. The doctors wanted to remove her from life support, but her last will and testament stated that should she ever be in a coma she was to remain on life support for fifteen months. Burt had been holding out hope for the past eleven months, but with the last three and a half months rapidly closing in, he realized it was going to be time to say goodbye soon.

"Daddy?" Kurt whispered from where he sat doing his mother's nails.

Burt glanced up slightly at the small boy. This didn't seem fair to Kurt, for everything that he was dealing with. He'd only just turned seven. Burt knew that Kurt felt his mother was already dead, and that truly he was humoring his father by coming and caring for her. But he was a small child, and Burt believed that some little part of Kurt wanted to believe his mother would wake up and spend all the rest of their Christmases together.

"Yeah kiddo?"

"Do you believe in God?"

Burt considered his words, Angie had believed in God but wasn't very religious, and he'd never had much interest with religion to begin with. It wasn't that he didn't believe in God, but he found it easier to say he didn't believe so that when bad things did happen, God didn't become his scapegoat. He felt people should live good lives regardless of what a book did or didn't say. "Do you," he finally asked.

Kurt seemed to consider it. "Mommy did."

"You know Kurt, you don't have to do what Mommy and I do. Anything you choose in your life is your choice, not ours. We're not going to ever force you into a box. That's not what parents should do."

"Is that why Mom always asked if I wanted to go to church or stay home with you?"

Burt nodded. "We wanted to encourage you to understand that church is a special place for Mommy, but that you should choose if you wanted to be a part of that."

"The people at Mommy's church didn't approve of me," he whispered.

Burt reached out and gripped his son's hand. "Listen to me Kurt? Religion is based on people who take a book written by man and read it like it's history—and it's not. Blind faith is no better than blind ignorance. God made you the way you are, and he loves you. He doesn't make mistakes buddy, he only makes beauty."

"So you do believe in God?"

Burt shook his head. "You know what I believe in Kurt?" He smiled as he lifted his son into his arms and hugged him close. "I believe in you, and I believe in me and your mother. And I believe we're on this earth to be good people and love everyone. What do you think?"

The boy grinned. "Me too."

Burt smiled as he pressed a kiss to the child's temple. "I love you son," he murmured. Even if his wife didn't make it, they would still have each other, and to Burt that was the most important thing in the world.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Sorry it's been so long between updates we made a budgetary decision to nix cable and internet at the house until we find something cheaper thus I have to actually go somewhere public to post!

**Chapter Five**

Kurt must have fallen asleep at some point; the Sikh had left after the treatment. As he slowly woke from his dreams, he glanced up at all the machines, only to realize nothing had changed. He felt an overwhelming feeling of suffocation, he was in this nightmare, he had to be. Standing he grabbed his coat and hurried out the hospital door, with barely a glance over his shoulder.

It was well after midnight, the sound of the windshield wipers hitting the window drowned out the sound of the rain until Kurt turned his car off. Stepping out of the car, he felt the tears already starting to fall. He was exhausted, and they'd kicked him out of the hospital. He was supposed to be headed home...but home felt too empty. He didn't want to go to an empty house.

He made his way slowly to the gravesite. He knew by heart where it was, just over a grassy hill. He looked down at the grave stone.

Angela Cherie Hummel  
>Beloved Mother and Wife<br>1967-2002

"Hi," Kurt whispered. He knelt before the block of stone, disregarding the state of his pants "It's been awhile. Gaga knows I'm probably not the world's best son right now. I'd like to say I've been busy—and I have been—but that's not much of an excuse. Um...I...Dad had a heart attack." He closed his eyes, hating himself for being able to admit that. "Mom...I know you believe in Heaven, and I desperately hope for your sake that's where you've been the past eight and a half years. I think I'm having a crisis of faith, Mom. I really wish you were here. You were always so good at this stuff. I'm so scared. So very scared Mom. I don't want to be alone—never minding the idea of being an orphan." He'd always felt alone though, for as long as he could remember, maybe not around his father, but he'd never felt like he really belonged anywhere.

A ghost like figure stood behind him, kneeling down she gripped his shoulders gently, hoping perhaps she could give him the little sense of comfort he was looking for. "I'm here son," she whispered.

"I feel you. Am I dying?" He looked up at her, he felt a little crazy, as if he shouldn't be seeing her.

Coming around him, she knelt in front of him, in front of her own grave stone, and brushed the hair from his hands. "No, baby you're not dying. You're very alive."

"Why do I still feel so lost?" he studied the figure in a desperation to memorize every detail.

Angie shook her head. "Kurt baby, I can't answer that, only you can. I think you need to give yourself a break though. You've faced some really tough situations. Kurt, your biggest problem growing up was you wanted to be in control at all times, and the truth is that's not possible."

"Did you see Dad?"

She smiled. "He looks good. Listen to me sweetheart because I can't stay long. Your life isn't going to be perfect, and you won't be able to constantly control it. Instead try enjoying it, baby. Really relax now and then. Wear poly-cotton blends, it's okay." Kurt gave a visible shudder.

"You're not asking me to dress more like dad...are you? Because I tried that once, and it did not work out."

Her chuckle soothed his nerves. "Heavens no, you'll never be Burt. That's why we love you. Be yourself and just remember that sometimes it's okay to relax and let loose too."

"I miss you. I feel so alone."

"Hummel," a voice called behind him. Kurt turned to see Puck standing behind him, leather jacket pulled tight around his shoulders. "What on Earth is wrong with you, dude, it's freezing out here."

"Don't call me dude," Kurt shot back, his heart not really in it. He was surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder, but not a violent one. Puck's hand felt like he cared. "Why are you here, Puck?" Kurt looked up at him, water dripping off both of them from the rain.

"Because you need a friend even if you don't think so. Come on, let me take you back to my place. My mom has a bowl of soup with your name on it."

For a brief moment, Kurt considered putting up a fight, but he found that he couldn't do it. He couldn't fight anymore. With a nod, Puck helped him up and into the car, and Puck drove away. "How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"Where to find me?"

Puck half shrugged, "I saw you one year, at your mom's grave site when I was with my mom visiting my grandma. I guess that image always sorta stuck with me, knowing we were both hurting. We weren't really friends anymore, so I didn't think you wanted me to come over at that point. But, I get it, Kurt."

They arrived back at Puck's house, hopping out the headed inside, where Sarah stood, "Really?" She questioned looking at the drenched teens. "You went out to get him and you didn't think to get an umbrella?"

"It's in my truck."

"It didn't do you much good there, did it Noah." She shook her head and ushered them in. "Honestly, sometimes. Kurt why don't you go downstairs and grab a shower. I made you some soup, it's on the stove, help yourself."

Kurt imagined his father would be frantic by now, searching all over the house for him. That was if he even noticed that his son had gone missing. Meanwhile, Kurt sat in front of the house, at the edge of the driveway coloring a recent picture of _The Little Mermaid_ mommy had bought him last week. He'd hurried out of the house after daddy had snapped at him over interrupting him while the game was on.

He'd headed all the way down the driveway and had just been about to cross the street when he recalled both Mommy and Daddy threatening to take away his pretty princess ballerina slippers if he crossed the street without them. So plopping down at the end of the skirt, he ate his little bag of cheerios and colored while he waited for Daddy to find him.

"Kurtis Franklin Hummel!" the shout alone was enough to cause Kurt to jump, the hands that grabbed him from under his arms and yanked him from the ground—cheerios and all—frightened Kurt as he was turned around and faced with the very angry face of Daddy. "What do you think you're doing!" Burt snapped, unable to stop the slight tremor in his voice and the demanding shake in his arms. He was careful, however, was a four year old too old to have shaken baby syndrome.

Kurt jutted out his chin defiantly, "I'm running away!" he garbled trying to sound highly determined.

"Didn't get very far!" Daddy replied. Kurt somehow imagined his Mommy snapping at Daddy for that line. "And just where were you headed?"

Kurt felt upset, and ashamed that he hadn't gotten far, "All the way to town! But I'm not 'llowed to cross the street." When daddy started laughing at him, Kurt became agitated and began to struggle away from his father. Clearly he hadn't learned his lesson. "Lemme go!" he shouted.

"Quit it," Daddy said sharply, giving Kurt a none too gentle swat to the bottom. Burt was all too aware that those baby blues were beginning to well with tears of frustration and anger. They needed a time out. "Kurt, I want you to go to your room, no TV, no video games, no computer, and I don't want you to try any of Mommy's shoes on either. You'll go sit on your bed, and I'll come talk to you when I've decided a suitable punishment."

Tears begin to leak from Kurt's eyes, "Don't be mad!" he cried, "I only ran'd to here...I swear."

"Kurt, it's not the distance. It's the principal of the thing."

"What?"

"It's the fact that you tried to run away, kiddo, not how far you went. You're a little guy still, and there are big things out there that can hurt you. What would've happened if you hadn't stopped at the driveway and you got lost?"

"I'd wait till you found me," Kurt replied logically, it had never dawned on him that Daddy wouldn't have come for him, wouldn't have found him.

Burt sighed and set him down. "Kurt, go to your room. Now."

Kurt gave his daddy one last glare before turning around and heading to his room. He hid there for what felt like an eternity until he heard a light knock on his door. Adjusting his emotions, turned away from the door and acted as if he wasn't paying attention as the door opened. "Hey, kiddo," Daddy greeted.

Kurt didn't reply immediately, instead he crossed his arms and stared at his pillow shams. "Kurt, please turn around."

"No."

"I'm sorry," Daddy's voice however didn't indicate sorrow, rather it seemed to have a hint of anger in it. "Kurt, I asked you to turn around. And if you'd like to come away from his without punishment, I suggest you do what I just asked."

Kurt felt a slight hesitation of fear, but gathered his resolve. "No."

"Right, okay then," without another word, Daddy left the room. Kurt turned around and stared at the door, sure that he had won. Until suddenly the door opened again and his father walked in with a very large suitcase.

"What all did you want to take?" Daddy asked as he walked over to the dresser, "Obviously some pajamas, oh and you need your toothbrush, and all your other show items, why don't you go get those while I pack up your clothes."

"What are you doing?"

Daddy looked up at him with a smile, "I'm helping you pack, that's what you want isn't it. To leave, you wanted to run away. I'm just helping you. I think you'll want to take your Power Ranger shoes in addition to your sensible black heels, those'll get worn down after awhile. Oh and you'll probably need a job so you can buy all those pretty clothes you like."

"Daddy," Kurt began, his lower lip shaking as he watched his daddy pack up everything he had. "Daddy, stop."

The man paused studying his son, "Why? I thought this is what you wanted. Mom and me will support you Kurt, but you're right if you aren't happy here then you should definitely go away.

"I..." Kurt looked down as he watched his daddy put everything in the suitcase and opened it up, for a moment, Kurt considered taking it and leaving the house. "You won't come get me?"

"Nope, you're on your own, kiddo. You'll have to leave Mr. Bugsy here though; adults don't usually have stuffed toys. And you'll want to let your teachers know that you won't be returning to school."

Kurt's eyes grew damp and wide. "Daddy, are you mad?"

"Why would I be mad, Kurt?"

"Cause...cause I'm bad."

Burt looked down at his child for a long moment, before he flipped the suitcase back open and put the majority of Kurt's stuff back. He then pushed the bag out of the way so he could sit next to his son. "Do you remember when you got lost at the mall last year?"

Kurt looked down at his hands, "Uh huh."

"So you remember that fear right, how frightened you felt that mommy and daddy weren't there anymore?"

"Yeah."

"Imagine how we felt. The horror that our little boy had wandered off and we didn't know where. We felt like terrible parents. But that is only a little of how I felt this afternoon, Kurt."

"So you aren't mad?"

The laugh was enough for Kurt to know that wasn't true. "Oh no, I'm furious. But I think you have the right to know that I'm not upset with you as the person, but your actions."

Kurt studied his father, confusion clearly written on his face because after a moment, Daddy reached out and lifted him into his lap. Kurt considered struggling, the lingering effects of his frustration wanting to take over, but instead he allowed the contact, he allowed his Daddy to pull him close and hug him. "Do you remember when you decided to draw on Mommy's wall last month?"

"Uh huh."

"And do you remember how Mommy took the crayons away?"

Kurt nodded. "Your action was creating your art on the wall without asking. It was something you did, maybe not the smartest thing, but it was just something you did either without knowing better or because it seemed okay. It was an action."

"So...when you yell at the TV that's an action?" Daddy nodded grinning from ear to ear, until his son replied again. "Oh...Daddy I don't like your actions very much."

Daddy laughed. "God you are such a brat," he joked hugging him close. "Kurt, listen to me baby." He sighed pressing his forehead to his beautiful boy's forehead. "What you did today, the action of leaving the house and worrying me, was bad. I didn't like that very much. It scared Daddy. But I still love Kurt. I still love you."

"Why was it scary?"

"Well...Why don't you touch the stove?"

"Cause Mommy said it'll hurt me if I touch the blue fire."

"Right, so you understand pain?"

"Member Daddy, I fell off the coffee table!"

"Well, that's the same reason you can't go into the street, because it would hurt if you got hit by a car. It would hurt Mommy and me if you disappeared and didn't come back because you were confused and lost."

"I don't want to make you and Mommy hurt."

"That's right you don't, just like we don't ever want to hurt you."

"Daddy?" He asked. He heard his father hum lightly to prompt him further. "Sometimes it hurts me when you ignore me over those sports things on the TV."

Daddy smiled, "I'll try to pay more attention to you during the games, if you try to remember Daddy needs alone time too."

"Like when Mommy takes her long baths."

"Just like that."

"I'm glad we had this talk," Kurt's giggled echoed through the house as Burt attacked all his ticklish spots.

Kurt returned to the present as the water grew chilly. He shut off the shower and stepped out, feeling a little better. Kurt returned to the kitchen, there was a bowl of Sarah's secret hot soup on the table and a spoon. "Kurt, I know time changes things, but I want to help you."

He looked at both of them. "I'm okay, really—"

"Kurt, you're going to stay with us. It doesn't matter if you'd rather stay here or have Noah stay at your place, but you'll have someone with you until your father is awake." Sarah Puckerman agreed.

"I don't need a babysitter," Kurt rounded on her.

Sarah nodded. "No, you don't, but you're a seventeen-year-old teenager whose father is laid up in the hospital, showing no signs of waking up. Kurt, my son is one of the strongest kids I know, and I'd damn well be pissed as hell if someone didn't care for him. Burt loves you and he'd be furious to know that you're doing this on your own."

Kurt looked at her, his eyes burning with sadness at the truth behind her words. "I..." He took a very shaky sigh. "I'd really appreciate that." He was beginning to realize that some of his suffering was caused only by himself. Carole had offered for him to stay, but Kurt had simply lied to her about not wanting to impose and that Mercedes had already offered him a place to stay. It was his fault he was all alone, normally he liked it that way.

Kurt wasn't even aware of the tears sliding down his cheeks at this point. He just stared down at the coffin. Something about his mother being in a coma for the past year-and-a-half had been far too easy. Now it began to sink in that Mommy wasn't coming back. It was a small funeral, close family and friends. Burt hadn't wanted to deal with much more than that.

Kurt closed his eyes, more tears escaping at the thought of never seeing Mommy again. Even seeing her in the hospital had been better than knowing she was gone now forever. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked up at his father. His lower lip trembled as he saw his Daddy was crying too.

Burt gave him a tight smile before holding his hand out. As if on cue, Kurt gripped the hand for all it was worth, feeling completely lost without his Mommy suddenly. Burt seemed to have sensed his son's desperation, reaching down he lifted Kurt under his arms, and sat him against his hip.

Kurt instantly wrapped his arms around his father's shoulders and pressed his cheek into Burt's neck. He couldn't stop the sobs as they began to hitch from his small body. The other mourners seemed to cry harder at the sight of the lost little boy. Burt gave a brief nod, before deciding this was all his child could take. The service was over anyway, they were going to bury her now. He rubbed his son's back and carried him away from the grave. "I know Kurt," he whispered, his own heart breaking as he slid into the car with his son, clutching him close.

The door remained open until Angie's mother and father slid inside as well. "Want me to take him?" Angie's mother offered. She didn't expect Burt to say yes, so she wasn't surprised when he shook his head and gripped the grieving child closer.

"She's always going to be watching you, baby," Burt whispered. He pressed a kiss to his son's forehead and closed his eyes, taking in the scent of his child.

After a few moments the boy had cried himself dry. He sat in his father's arms almost limply curled against his chest. "Don't leave me," he whimpered.

Burt's own eyes began to water as he shook his head. "Never baby, not by choice," he closed his eyes and cried, holding his son close. He felt Angie's mother, Claire move over and hold them both, letting both the Hummel's cry.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

A small part of Puck felt like he should be torturing the kid that was now fast asleep in his bed. Kurt had been practically unconscious by the time his mother had arrived. They'd brought Kurt into the house and put him in Puck's bed. Puck didn't mind sleeping on the couch. He was used to it with his little sister when she had nightmares. Sometimes they'd stay up all night, and other times she'd sleep on his chest while he sang to her.

"Noah, you okay?" Sarah questioned, stepping into the bedroom. Her son was staring down at Kurt who slept no doubt for the several days.

Puck took a slow deep breath. "We could've all been in very different situations. It easily could've been you that died, or even Dad. I don't know how he's doing it."

Sarah offered Noah a tight smile and rubbed his back gently. "Life is painful sometimes. I think Kurt is much stronger than anyone gives him credit for because he lost his mother. When a spouse walks away, whether abandonment, or death or divorce," she paused, "something is always lost. Come on let's get to sleep. Kurt's going to need us."

Kurt rolled over the next morning, surprised to find that he wasn't in his own bed...or his own house. Squinting at the sun streaming through the window, he blinked for a moment, before realizing that the sun was clearly coming from a second story bedroom. He glanced around the room, trying to keep a sense of panic at bay. He looked over at a chair to see a Metallica shirt...a very familiar shirt. Then he recalled what had happened last night, he was in Noah Puckerman's room. "Oh god, what did I do," he whispered.

"Nothing," stated Puck, as he stepped into the room. "Relax, dude, before you spaz. You slept here last night after my mom and Artie's mom found you at the grave yard. They're worried about you...and to be honest I'm a little bummed myself."

"Thanks," Kurt replied he stood and headed into the shower. Puck nodded and waited for him to disappear before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

"How is he?" Sarah questioned.

"I don't know," Noah stated. "I've never seen him like this. The kid gets chucked into garbage bins daily but this...this is unlike anything I've seen...since his mom died."

Sarah nodded. "The hospital called. His grandmother arrived early this morning. I thought we'd drop Kurt off, and then if he wanted he could head to school halfway through the day."

"He'd probably like that. I'll talk to him."

"What do you two want for breakfast?"

"Kurt already eats like a bird, just give me an apple for him and a bacon, egg and cheese bagel would be good for me."

She shook her head. "If you don't eat better you're going to be next." She waved her spatula at him before kissing his cheek. "Go wake your sister before you head back upstairs. She needs to get ready for school."

It was twenty minutes later when the teenagers were in Puck's car headed to the hospital. "Ma' says your grandma arrived early this morning. So we figured she could drop you off at school later today if you wanted."

"Thanks, Puck," Kurt mumbled.

Puck pulled up in front of the hospital and parked, looking at Kurt for a long time. "I get it, dude. You're having a rough spot, but it's not going to help you if you push everyone else away right now."

Kurt's laugh was bitter. "That's rich, coming from you. What do you think you did when your dad left?"

"I was eight!" snapped Puck.

"You were a jerk! You're still a jerk, Puckerman. You don't ever do anything without a motive. So what's your goal, want to see Hummel sad and depressed and get a good shot at kicking him while he's down! Go ahead," his words shook with anger, frustration and a hint of exhaustion. "Because there isn't much left you can do to me that's any worse than this." He waved his hand towards the hospital. "You think after five years of chucking me into garbage, nailing furniture to my roof and throwing pee balloons at me that suddenly we're going to be okay? Think again!"

Puck had the decency to look somewhere between guilty and frustrated. "I haven't done any of that since I started glee."

"So that makes it all better?" Kurt growled. "You humiliated me! You called me names and now you think I should just let you waltz back into my life!" Kurt stopped, cutting off his final words. He wasn't ready to admit that to anyone, much less Puckerman.

"Kurt, I'm trying to help." Puck had learned a lot in juvie, and one of the things had been if you don't ask for help you didn't get any. "Look I'm an asshole, I get it. I'm not asking for sainthood or anything. I'm asking you to let me make it up to you. Let me prove myself to you."

"I don't want anything from you," Kurt ground out as he opened the car door and started to get out. The only thing stopping him was Puck's hand on his wrist.

"If you do, I'm a phone call away, dude."

"Don't call me dude," Kurt mumbled as he got out and slammed the door behind him, clutching his bag closer and walking rapidly into the hospital memories washing over him like a tidal wave.

"Today's my birthday," Kurt grinned as he sat down at the picnic table right outside. Noah Puckerman smiled as he sat down beside his friend.

"I know, you told me Friday before we went home. Spo, what did you get for your birthday?" Noah asked excitedly as he opened his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles backpack. He grinned pulling a card he'd made out of construction paper and crayons.

"Daddy bought me a new pair of Ralph Lauren pants and a pair of dress shoes. He said no high heels this year." The boy's face became sad, he'd been hoping for another pair, he'd outgrown the ones his mom bought before she died. His dad called it a growth support or something.

"I made you somethin'," Noah offered putting, the pink construction paper in front of him.

Kurt's eyes went wide with happiness.

**Daer Kurt**

**Happy Bithdy, Loev u!**

**Noah**

Kurt grinned and threw his arms around Noah's neck. "Thank you, I love it!" Noah instantly returned the hug, grinning at the thought that his friend liked it so much. Kurt pressed a kiss to Noah's cheek and smiled.

"Happy Birthday, Kurt," Noah replied giving Kurt a quick peck on the lips.

Love wasn't much of a real concept at the age of eight, but Noah couldn't shake that even at that age he'd understood his feelings for Kurt had been a little deeper than friendship. "DAMN IT!" Puck yelled, slamming his hands against the steering wheel. It felt like every time he tried to do a good deed he only succeeded in frustrating Kurt and making everything worse. Why was he even helping? With one last glance at the hospital entrance, he pulled away from the hospital.

Kurt, on the other hand, was in a whirl of thoughts and emotions as he stepped into his father's hospital room a few minutes later. He looked at his father and felt the tears start anew. He sank into the chair and began to sob, losing all semblance of control that he had left. "I know this wasn't your choice, Dad, but please I'm not ready. I'm not ready," he cried burying his face once again in his father's neck.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, losing any control he had left, but he was startled when he heard a soft voice behind him. "Hello Darling," she said in an elegant and refined tone.

He looked over his shoulder, positive he looked terrible with a blotchy face. He forced a weak smile. "Hi, Grandma," he replied before standing and nearly collapsing in her arms as she held him close.

"Hush now, dear. You're always so strong, what has you so upset?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry."

"Shh," she crooned, softly rubbing his back. "You're all right. Come now, your father can wait a few more minutes. Lets take a walk and talk for a little while, after all I haven't seen you in a couple years, we should catch up a little."

He chuckled weakly and nodded, accepting her hand and walking down the hallway with her. His grandmother always had a beautiful voice and was such an elegant woman. "How long can you stay?" he asked quietly.

"Just tonight, I'm afraid, dear."

He smiled and nodded. "You'll give Grandpa Joe a hug and kiss?"

"For you, me and your father."

The back side of the hospital had a small park with a Labyrinth circle. Kurt stepped onto the patio, not even noticing it and sitting on a bench beside her. "I just feel so alone and desperate. Up until yesterday night I was sleeping at the house alone...if that's what you wanna call it. It's so empty."

"And now you're staying with friends."

"Yeah...well no."

She studied him briefly. "Explain?"

Kurt closed his eyes. "Well I should probably start with I'm gay."

She looked at him. "Yes I knew that. How did it get complicated? I want to know about that."

He couldn't help but laugh as he hugged her. "How did everyone know before me?"

Claire pressed a kiss to his hair. "Darling, your grandfather and I watched you grow up. There was no question in our minds. But we still love you, and your father has come very far in raising you. We're proud of you Now, tell me."

"The guy I'm staying with... He was the first boy I ever kissed when I was nine. He kissed me on my birthday. And he dropped me off this morning and we got into a fight because he hasn't been a very good friend these past several years and suddenly he wants to be."

"Do you want him to be?"

Kurt shrugged with one shoulder. "Yeah, but I don't want to get hurt again."

"You still care for him."

"Yes."

"Does he?"

"I honestly don't know. He's not just a friendly person. He does things with a purpose and generally not good one. I'm just so afraid to get hurt that I don't know how to accept his sudden onset of kindness."

"You think this Puck isn't capable of being a friend?"

Kurt sighed heavily, "I don't know. I want to think he can, but another part of me," he shrugged. "That part of me that used to like him has been cut off to stop any pain."

"Kurt, I've learned that some of the best relationships develop during or after tragedy. Perhaps this boy hasn't come upon these feelings suddenly, but rather he's always felt them, and now he feels it's okay to try and express them without you panicking."

"I'm panicking."

"Yes, I see that," she joked gently. "Do you like him?"

Kurt sighed. "I never stopped...and believe me I really tried."

"Let us look at it this way then. Right now you are going through a very difficult time, do you feel lonely?"

"And scared."

"Then perhaps it would behoove you to allow this boy in, a little at a time. If he continues to prove himself then allow him to become the friend, but at least allow him to comfort you a little."

"What if I get hurt again?"

She gripped her grandson's hands. "Kurt, I've never told you this—though I'm sure you heard your mother talk. Joseph is not my first husband. He is in fact my second husband, and it was only shortly before you were born that we married after years of simply adoring one another. Sometimes pain must be endured to love someone. Would you really want to go through your whole life avoiding love and pain? You'll be miserable."

"I'll try."

"Spot on."

They sat there in silence for several moments before Kurt spoke again. "Do you believe in God?"

She smiled. "I never had much time for religion myself. I'm spiritual, I believe in God...but I'm not religions. Your grandfather doesn't attend church anymore; something about them telling him that his favorite grandson wasn't welcome didn't sit well with him." Kurt grinned. "Have you ever meditated?"

"No."

She pointed to the labyrinth on the ground. "For centuries people have created the mazes. You follow the path and allow your mind to be free. Some people step out with epiphanies. Others just feel stronger once they've done it. It's all about your own personal journey though. Sometimes when I become overwhelmed with your grandfather's illness I walk one of these and I consider why I'm with him and why I love him." She paused and looked at him. "Would you care to take a walk with me?"

"Will you sing?"

She smiled. "I think I can do that." Arms entwined, the two walked as she began to sing softly to him.

**Oh yeah, I'll tell you something  
>I think you'll understand<br>When I say that something  
>I wanna hold your hand<br>I wanna hold your hand  
>I wanna hold your hand<strong>

Kurt stood before Glee the next afternoon, before he decided to speak. After talking with his grandmother and walking the labyrinth, he hadn't felt amazing, but he felt a little surer of how he wanted to express himself to his fellow classmates. "On the day of my mom's funeral, I was crying. This was the last time I'd ever see her...and I was sad. I looked up at my dad hoping he'd say something, anything to make it better. But he didn't. Instead, he took my hand. And he just held it...so this is for my father."

**Oh yeah, I'll tell you something  
>I think you'll understand<br>When I say that something  
>I wanna hold your hand<br>I wanna hold your hand  
>I wanna hold your hand<strong>

**Oh, please, say to me  
>You'll let me be your man<br>and please, say to me**

"Okay, now pedal, pedal-"

"Let go, Dad!" Kurt grinned from ear to ear.

Letting go, Burt watched his son ride his bike for the first time down the street. "That's it! That's it!" he cried excitedly.

The wobble in the tire was unmistakable, and he watched his sweet little boy crash to the pavement, letting out a pain filled small cry. "Kurt!" he yelled, racing over to his child. He knelt down, looking at the little guy. Hey, hey you okay?" He asked, cupping his son's chin.

Tear filled eyes looked up at him. "Ow," he whimpered, holding up his scraped up palms.

Burt smiled. "Oh, Kurt, come on then." He gently lifted his son under his arms, and steering the bike, made his way back to the house.

"Dad, can I try again tomorrow?"

"Buddy, you can try again as often as you'd like." He carried his son into the bathroom, sat him on the countertop and began to tend to his palms. "Now...how about that tea party?"

Kurt giggled. "You promise you'll play along!"

"Of course!" Burt laughed as he kissed his son's head. "Come on, buddy. Show me how to drink tea properly!"

**You'll let me hold your hand  
>Now let me hold your hand<br>I wanna hold your hand**

**And when I touch you i feel happy, inside  
>It's such a feeling<br>That my love  
>I can't hide<br>I can't hide  
>I can't hide<strong>

**Yeah you, got that something  
>I think you'll understand<br>When I say that something  
>I wanna hold your hand<br>I wanna hold your hand  
>I wanna hold your hand<strong>

Kurt kept lifting his pinky. Burt laughed out loud at the sight of his son's tiny finger sticking out. "I can't do that," he joked as he kept trying. "The tea cups are too small for me!"

Kurt rolled his eyes, reaching across the table to try and fix it again. "Stop putting the ring finger up, Dad, that's wrong," he giggled.

"Like this?" he asked, holding it properly now.

"That's right!" He smiled warmly at his father.

"What do you want for dinner kiddo?"

"Not chicken!" joked Kurt.

"Why I oughta—" Kurt stood up shrieking as he ran away from his father. Burt grinned as he raced after his boy, grabbing him around the stomach and twirling him through the air. He reveled in the laughter. He felt like sometimes Kurt didn't laugh enough, that he didn't have enough boyish fun.

He chuckled as he tickled his son silly until the child cried uncle playfully, and then reached out to tickle his father back. Finally, they collapsed to the ground in a giggling, exhausted heap. Kurt looked at his father and curled up against his side, leaning his head on his daddy's chest. "You're the best, Dad."

Burt felt his heart swell with pride. That's all he needed to know he was doing all right. "You're the best son. Don't forget to have some fun kid. You're growing way too fast."

"You say that I'll always be your baby."

Burt grinned and he rolled his son over enough so that he was lying on top of his chest. "You will be. Always, my beautiful little boy."

"Even...even if I'm different."

Burt brushed the hair from his son's forehead. "Especially because you're different. That's what makes you my Kurt."

**And when I touch you I feel happy, inside  
>It's such a feeling<br>That my love  
>I can't hide<br>I can't hide  
>I can't hide<strong>

**Yeah you, got that something  
>I think you'll understand<br>When I say that something  
>I wanna hold your hand<br>I wanna hold your hand  
>I wanna hold your hand<br>I wanna hold your hand.**

Kurt closed his briefly before he reopened them and wiped the tears from his cheeks... He saw that everyone else was practically crying too. "Thanks," he managed as he walked out of the room. He escaped to bathroom, where this time he quickly locking the door.

Looking in the mirror he felt the breakdown beginning to bubble up. He closed his eyes. He was so absorbed in his own pain that the hand slamming down on his shoulder made him jump nearly a mile high. "I hear the little freak don't believe in God either!" Azmio's burly figure was grabbing him suddenly and throwing him into the wall.

"Azmio." Kurt's voice came out in a sharp surprised squeak. If the situation hadn't been so worrisome, Kurt would've rolled his eyes at his prepubescent voice.

Azmio's face was filled with hate and something else as he moved towards Kurt. "None of your fellow freaks are around to stop me this time! Maybe I should put you in the hospital like your freak-lovin' daddy—"

"Shut up!" screamed Kurt, suddenly unable to stop himself. "Shut up!" He began to beat his fists against Azmio's chest. Unable to stop screaming and yelling, but it was doing little good. It made Kurt feel better, until Azmio's fist connected with his left cheek. Then his stomach. Another fist hit his face and Kurt dropped to the ground, vaguely aware of someone pounding on the bathroom door.

"Little! Faggot!" Azmio shouted, kicking Kurt in the stomach repeatedly until arms wrapped around his arms and waist.

"Get off him!" Kurt heard a voice growl. Kurt groaned as he rolled over to see Puckerman slam his fist into Azmio nose.

Azmio spouted, "This ain't over freak!" before running out of the room.

Puck looked utterly shaken as he knelt beside Kurt. "Dude?"

Kurt groaned, gripping his ribs. "Don't call me dude."

Despite the concern written all over his features, Puck couldn't help but chuckle.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Please don't touch me." Kurt shook as he tried to stand to his feet and move past Puck. He felt like things couldn't possible get worse. He hissed as he tried to stand and his ribs shifted. He'd broken one—it was clear. Everything was shaking, and Kurt honestly wasn't sure if it was because of the pain or because of the fear he'd felt at the attack. The bullying had become more vicious lately...but today. He closed his eyes. It was rapidly becoming overwhelming.

"You need to go to the hospital." Puck's voice invaded his thoughts.

Kurt glared at him. "Well that's not going to happen unless it's to visit my father. I just need to clean myself up. Now you can either help me or get out of my way."

Puck seemed to consider this for a long moment and nodded. "Fine." He shut the bathroom door again and locked it. Grabbing a handful of paper towels, he wet one and pressed it to the wound on Kurt's lip. He then placed the other one on Kurt's neck. "You're warm," Puck offered quietly.

"I'm going to assume it's because my heart is pounding."

Puck shook his head. "No, then you'd be cool because your heart is racing to try and cool you off in an intense situation. You would sweat. You're fever warm."

"I'm fine," Kurt lied.

"Clearly. Mom's going to have a fit over this—"

"She isn't going to find out. I'm sleeping at my house tonight."

"Kurt."

"Puck!" Kurt cut him off. Gulping at the rise of bile in his throat, he quickly softened his harsh tone. "Please, I can't take this. I'm sore, I'm exhausted and I'm dying to sleep in my own bed. I'll do practically anything you ask as long as I can be left alone by the end of the day."

He closed his eyes, allowing his mind to wander as Puck tended to his injuries.

Dad had been in his office when Kurt stepped into the room, looking up at him. When his father glanced up, Kurt felt his stomach rolling at the shock and pain passing through his father's eyes as the sight of his eight year old child standing there in a torn shirt, bloody lip, and a swollen eye, his arm was tucked close to his ribs as well.

"Jesus Kurt!" Burt snapped immediately moving from behind the desk towards his son, "What the hell happened!" Kurt was sure he hadn't meant to sound angry, but he couldn't stop himself from backing away in fear, all the same.

"I'm sorry!" Kurt cried like he did as a small child.

Burt sighed, his shoulders visibly sagging. "No, I'm sorry. Come here. I'm not angry at you. Remember we talked about this?"

Kurt nodded, stepping towards his father so his dad could look him over. "What happened?"

The boy's eyes began to water again and he shook his head, unable to answer. Burt lifted his child up onto his desk and pulled out his first aid kid. "I can't fix it Kurt, if you don't tell me."

"You can fix everything."

Burt wished his son was right, but in truth no, he couldn't. He really couldn't. And that made it even worse. "Wanna tell me what's happened?"

"I don't think Noah likes me anymore," Kurt began to cry.

"Did he do this?"

Kurt gave the most hesitant nod. He watched as his father grabbed a small towel and began to wipe his injuries. Then Burt began to hum softly. "Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"I don't like you coming home like this."

"I'm sorry."

Burt was quiet for a moment, before speaking, "Not because I'm angry son. It worries me. Do we need to go see about other injuries?"

"No?"

"Kurt?"

Burt must have realized there was more than one pang of pain on his child, because the next moment, Kurt was being lifted carefully. "Okay big guy, let's go visit the doctor."

"Am I unlovable?"

"No, and you're too young to be thinking that." he replied, hand on Kurt's head gently leading him to the truck.

"Kurt? KURT!" Puck snapped, causing Kurt to shudder and startle. He looked at Puck and he sighed. "I'm sorry. You had me worried there for a minute. Seriously dude you need a hospital..."

"I can't, Puck. I can't, not yet." He looked down, feeling completely ashamed of all of this.

"Dude."

Kurt cut him off again. "Seriously stop calling me dude. And I don't need a babysitter."

"How about a friend?" Puck offered as he finished cleaning Kurt up. "Do you have clothes in your locker?"

"Why did you stop him?"

Puck sighed as he moved towards Kurt. He reached out, surprising Kurt and himself a little. He slid his fingers against Kurt's bruised cheek. "Because I won't have someone hurting you."

"You hurt me," Kurt replied.

"Seriously dude, I'm a shit friend, I get that. But..." Puck sighed, "Remember when you were crying 'cause your mom had finally been taken off life support, and you were really upset?" Kurt nodded, remembering that night clearly. His father had been so depressed. He'd sent Kurt to stay with Sarah and Noah for the night. "You kissed me that night...a second time."

"I didn't think you'd ever admit that occurred."

"A year ago, you'd have been right. Now...I'm starting to think I wouldn't mind it."

"I'm not a pity fuck, Puck," Kurt ground out. "I'm not one of those girls you are so quick to sleep with."

Puck rolled his eyes. "I can actually be in a relationship and not have sex, dude."

"Oh my god, please stop calling me that, or I will cut off your jewels!"

Puck chuckled. "Still feisty. Kurt, I'm not the greatest guy in the world, okay? I suck at being a good person sometimes, and I'm not saying I'll be the world's best whatever...anything...but I'm asking you to give me a chance."

"Wait...what?" Kurt was stunned.

Noah looked at him. He drew closer. "I'm asking you...to be with me...to let me kiss you again?" he whispered, only inches from Kurt this time.

Kurt couldn't stop himself. He closed the remaining inches, lips locking with Puck's. They were just like he remembered, a little dry, but full of strength, and enough love to make him feel special and have his knees melt.

A few seconds later, Kurt withdrew, his lips swollen and acing. He felt flushed and light-headed. "I...I can't," he whispered, eyes watering.

Puck looked at him, his doe-brown eyes serious. "Because I'm a jerk?"

Kurt shook his head. "No, because I'm in pain—not just physical—I'm dying inside without Dad. I...I'm afraid that by saying yes right now, I'll only be doing it because someone is actually being nice. I want to make that decision when my life...is normal again." He laughed, "If that ever happens."

"It will," Puck replied as he rubbed Kurt's back. "Want me to go get you anything from the locker?"

"No, but if you'd care to drive me home, that'd be nice."

"I can do that...Do you want me to stay with you tonight?" Kurt looked at him for a long moment, surprised when Puck threw up his hands. "Nothin' funny."

"If you want to, I guess."

Puck smiled as he grabbed Hummel's bag. "I want to."

They made their way out of the school in slow companionable silence, glad that no one ever thought to stop them. Kurt was limping slightly, sweat dotting his brow. "Why now? I thought you weren't gay?" Kurt asked softly after several minutes. His words came out harsher than intended, but Puck felt it was because the teen was struggling to breath, much less walk.

Puck smiled weakly, "I'm not...I'm not attracted to dudes...just...just you." He grinned suddenly. "Maybe I'm just Hummelsexual"

"Seriously! Where did you come up with that?"

Puck simply shrugged, "Maybe I'm trying to say that you're special and that's why I like you."

Kurt didn't reply. Instead he was quiet for several moments, before looking at Puck. "Can I ask a random question?"

"Sure."

"Does...does loving God make you feel better?"

Puck looked at him seriously. "No...not all the time. I lost some of my faith in him when Dad left... I feel bad for God, ya know? People only want him when they're angry. But God is more than that, he doesn't create the pain, he helps heal it."

"That's why my dad is agnostic because it's easier to not have someone to blame than to find a scapegoat."

Puck nodded. "I don't think God hates you. In fact I think he loves you more than all those others." He opened the door to his truck and looked at Kurt. "Sorry dude." With a little help he got Kurt into the truck. Kurt's face, however, was drenched with sweat and he was huffing. If Puck didn't know better he'd say Kurt was on the brink of passing out.

"I'm pretty sure that God wouldn't choose favorites," Kurt offered several moments later once he'd regained some composure.

"I think that God's favorite followers are the ones who live good lives and struggle with the biggest questions. I'm not exactly the most devout Jew you're ever going to meet. I'm not perfect, but I appreciate that sometimes someone might be watching me." Puck shrugged. "But no, it doesn't always make it easier and sometimes praying doesn't always work. The truth is nature is going to win out. Miracles are rare."

"How come you didn't shove it on me too?"

"It's like I said, I'm not about shoving the G-man in anyone's face. If you believe, great, something we got in common. If not, great, something we can leave alone. It's a personal issue; it's no one's business but your own. Besides, I'm inclined to think Jews are more comfortable with their religion than others."

Kurt smiled. "Surprisingly, Rachel hasn't tried to push it on me. She seemed surprised but not...angry. Mercedes wants me to go to church on Sunday with her."

"Do you want to?" Puck asked honestly.

"I haven't really decided yet." Kurt replied.

"When's the last time you went to church?"

Kurt studied Puck seriously for a moment, "Mom's funeral."

Puck nodded, "Always worth a try, but only go if you're comfortable with it."


	8. Chapter 8  Rated R see full note

AN: Please be aware, I'm always into giving fair warnings because I know I don't like it when I'm taken by surprise in a story. This chapter contains a violent hate crime, could cause trigger issues, could cause tears and is definitely violent in it's content. If you have a weak stomach or can't take it please just don't read this chapter and continue on, this chapter was written in a way that should you not want to read it, it will not leave you confused in the coming chapters.

Also, please review :-) , not just this chapter but in general. There's a lot of great Glee stories out there and I'd like to know what I can do to help create them for you! The best way I write better is constructive feedback (not flames I don't read those). Thank you to all my readers, unreviewing and reviewing, I appreciate the time you take to just glance. There is another story (a different series) in the works currently that I hope to be posting by September.

**Chapter Eight** - Rated R

Despite Kurt's initial misgivings, having Puck around was nice for a couple reasons that evening. First and foremost, he was there to reach high for things because Kurt couldn't maneuver his broken rib. He was also some company to have around.

They sat upstairs on the couch watching Doctor Who, which Kurt was surprised to find Puck liked. Or at least he was faking it very well, because every few moments he'd ask where Jack was, and what had happened to Rose. Kurt smiled as he watched the Doctor bid a sad goodbye to Donna. "Thanks, Puckerman."

Puck glanced over at Kurt. He didn't know how to classify the diva. Were they friends? He'd certainly done all he could to protect Kurt lately. "I don't get it, Hummel. Why don't you just tell someone about all of this? Your dad would've done something. That guy is a bigger bad ass than me."

Kurt chuckled softly. "Yeah well, you know better than anyone witnesses are hard to come by in this school, and the minute you complain it gets ten times worse. And to be honest, I don't have any desire to visit my father in a high security prison."

"I'm not sure if I will ever be more sorry for all the shit I put you through, but I do want you to know I'm sorry."

Kurt looked at Puck and gave him a small smile. "I know. It's just going to take me awhile to learn to trust again. Is that okay?"

Puck considered it for a moment. Was it okay? Puck thought it was only fair that Kurt gave him a chance after five terrible years to regain his trust. "I'll be there, dude."

"You must stop calling me dude."

"No way, I love watching you get all huffy." The glare was so worth it.

"We always have Friday night dinner together." Kurt's voice was so quiet that Puck had almost missed it.

"I could get the veggie pizza from the joint up the street," he offered.

Kurt grimaced, shame coloring his cheeks red. "I told him I didn't want to go."

"Why?"

"Typical teenage answers: I'm a teen, Fridays are important to me, I have better things to do. Stupid excuses," Kurt replied, his eyes growing a little bright.

Puck studied him for a long time. "I'm sorry." He wasn't sure what other response was good.

"He told me he was disappointed in me."

"When?"

"Last time I saw him before the heart attack."

"He was upset and you were too."

Kurt nodded. "Thanks, Puck. If you want to order the pizza, I'm going to take a shower."

"Sure thing, du—" He grinned as Kurt glared at him. "Let me know if you need any help, Kurt."

"I don't need any help from you when I'm naked."

"That's what she said," grumbled Puck as Kurt left the room.

They spent part of the Saturday in the hospital with Burt, sneaking in and out under the nurse's radar because Kurt was afraid they'd insist on him getting checked out. Puck kept a watchful eye over the smaller teen. He hadn't slept well Friday or Saturday. It was only under the sleeping pills Puck's mother had used a few years back that Puck finally managed to knock Kurt out long enough to get some sleep himself.

If Kurt's lack of sleep was a clue to how bad he felt, then his eating habits were a giant neon sign. Puck managed to get a single piece of pizza and two bowls of soup down Kurt's throat. Other than that the boy remained steadfast in stating he either wasn't hungry or didn't feel well. Puck was afraid to really push it for fear that if Kurt did throw up he'd only hurt himself further.

There had been no change in Burt's condition. They hoped it was because he was doing okay, and Puck tried to remain positive, but even he was beginning to feel hopeless in helping Kurt. Despite Kurt's injuries, he went to the shop for part of Saturday and had only been dragged away after Jimmy and Puck got together and forced him out.

Kurt's ribs were clearly hurting. Every move made him grimaced, and Puck was fairly sure there were other injuries that were worse than the rib cage. All the same, Puck was afraid to really push Kurt for much more otherwise he feared the boy might break completely.

When Sunday dawned, Kurt was preparing to join Mercedes for church. Puck lay on the bed watching Kurt fight with his tie. Every time he moved his arms, he would groan in pain. "Hummel, you're going to kill yourself because of stubbornness," he grumbled as he stepped forward, swatting Kurt out of the way and began to fix it himself.

"Puck...Promise me you'll be there if I need you." Kurt's voice was abnormally unsteady.

Puck looked at his friend. "Of course I will, you know that. Just because your dad isn't here doesn't mean no one will protect you." Leaning forward Puck gave him a warm smile. He glanced at Kurt's lips, deciding to go for broke. Kurt looked unsure, but also leaned in, their lips meeting briefly.

When Kurt pulled away his cheeks flared red and he gave a weak smile. "I'll see you in an hour."

"Sure thing, Hummel." Puck replied, unable to hide his grin.

And that's how he found himself looking through the window of the ICU as he shook his head, feeling exhausted beyond belief. He stood at the door for another moment, before deciding it was time to face the fear and step inside. "Hey Mr. H, it's Mohawk," he offered, smiling weakly at the nickname he'd gone by as a kid. Taking a seat he took Burt's hand in his own and sighed. "I know you're a little busy, what with being in a coma and all, but...Kurt needs you and while I'm not your favorite person right now...I'll do anything to see that smile on his face again. Mr. H...I'm sorta in love with your kid."

He paused and smiled, as if he could imagine how the conversation would go. "I know you probably think I don't know what love is...with my more promiscuous ways—yes I know what that means. But...Kurt's always been different. He's always seen me. Not some jock or jerk or idiot...he sees the kid with goals and dreams. You know when we were seven, shortly after we met, he told me he wanted to be on Broadway and I told him I wanted to be a gourmet chef. He said "do it". No one has ever told me that. I guess what I'm sayin' is that your kid is pretty damn awesome and I'm hoping we can put everything behind us so maybe I can date him. You don't haveta answer now of course. Sleep on it." He smirked at his own joke. "I'm a douche," he muttered realizing he was mocking a coma patient.

Taking a slow breath, he dug deep for his next words. "There's somethin' else I wanted you to know, Mr. H. After my pop left, well...you're the only father figure I've ever really had, and while I'll deny it to my grave that I don't need a father figure. It's kinda cool to have one as awesome as you."

"Well I should get going, Kurt's at church, I wanna make sure he's okay. I don't know what Mercedes was thinking by takin' a gay kid into a church."

"Dad, I think you're supposed to leave the chicken in longer than that," Kurt offered as he watched his father withdrawal the chicken from the oven. The elder Hummel grinned and sat it down on the table.

Meanwhile, Kurt sat in the pews watching his best friend sing and he felt a wash of memories and sadness. His mind had long since wandered and he gave a half hearted smile as he sat listening to the church.

"Believe it or not Kurt, I have cooked before."

"Dad, anyone can boil water," Kurt rolled his eyes.

Burt had the good grace to stick his tongue out at his son. "Okay, what do you want?"

"Um, I want to see you cut it first and make sure it's edible."

Burt rolled his eyes and cut into the breast. "Ew," Kurt giggled as the knife had perfectly cut through cooked outer layer, but the inside was still pink and very juicy. The inside was still pink and completely raw. Burt met his son's eyes and they started laughing.

The laughter echoed through the house for the first time in a whole week. But it died down quickly as they looked quietly at one another. "Are you going to put it back in?"

"You want chicken?"

Kurt shrugged. "I could eat McDonalds, Dad."

"I just wanted to give you a reason to remember we're still a family."

Kurt slid his chair away from the table got up and sat down in his dad's lap carefully. "We're always a family, Dad. Mom's here, you told me that. She's in here." He tapped dad's chest above his heart.

"When did you get so smart?"

"I got it from Mom."

Burt laughed out loud, hugging his son close. "Right then, go grab your coat and we'll get take out or something."

"Kay!" Kurt ran off to grab his coat.

Burt watched, feeling his eyes burn with tears, he missed his wife every moment, one week didn't feel like long enough to truly grieve; the psychologists said it could be a year for them to really move on. But he was inclined to say it'd be much longer than that. But Kurt was right, Angie was still here, she was in her son. The way he smiled, his hair, his voice, some of his most basic mannerisms all belonged to his wife.

"Daddy, come on!"

Burt stepped into the main entrance way, pulling his coat on and picking his son up around the waist. "Next time you can cook the chicken."

Kurt sat in the pew despite his beliefs, smiling weakly at the image Mercedes' singing had brought to him. He had to talk to his father, and more than that, he knew what he needed to say to his father. After church he exited the sanctuary with Mercedes, but she quickly got detoured by a few friends, as did Dr. and Mrs. Jones. So Kurt stood awkwardly in the corner.

"Hey, Hummel, right?" A couple young men walked over, probably in their mid-twenties. Kurt froze for a moment looking at them, unsure how to respond.

"Yes," he offered quietly.

"Your dad owns that auto shop on the corner right?" The first young man questioned, smiling warmly.

Kurt felt relief flood his body, "Yes, he does."

The boy nodded. "He's a great mechanic, fixed my car up real fine. Don't s'pose you know a thing or two do you? My friend here's Ford isn't working too well right now."

Kurt shrugged. While he was in his Sunday best, he didn't mind. "Sure, let me just tell Mercedes."

"Don't worry about it man, I'll tell her," one of the boys said.

Kurt nodded and followed them into the parking lot of the church and the boy opened his car door and popped his hood. Kurt felt secure. Cars he knew. "Looks like you haven't gotten your filters cleaned in awhile."

The click of a cocking gun behind him made Kurt's blood run cold. "Fags don't belong in church or on this damn planet. Get in the back of the car," an all too familiar voice spoke.

"Please, just leave me alone. I won't tell anyone."

Azimio cut him off. "I don't want a fuckin' thing from you faggot. I want you to get in the back of the car."

Taking a slow gulp, they walked Kurt around to the back of the Buick where he was shoved into the back seat, Azimo still holding the gun to his head as he got into the passenger's seat. "Drive," the boy demanded. Whoever the other kid was in the front of the car did as instructed.

Kurt gulped slightly. Reaching into his pocket he managed to open his phone, hoping they wouldn't notice. His mind raced briefly over his contacts list, Mercedes had turned her phone off for church. Puck was the only one who would know where he was. He used his one hand to quickly type out a simple message. He texted enough to know where everyone one of the keys were. Closing his eyes he, desperately hoped that Puck would get his message.

They drove out about ten minutes from the actual church into the middle of the field. Kurt was beginning to get visions of Matthew Shepard in his mind. His father was still in a coma. Kurt couldn't imagine what his father would do if he woke up and found out he had died. And a small part of Kurt was positive he was going to die. As they pulled into an open field. Kurt quickly made one more text message to Puck In the field stood Karofsky looking all too ready to destroy him.

Kurt was yanked from the car. He fought, limbs flailing to catch any limbs, nose or stomach. However, when the butt of the gun connected with his temple, Kurt grunted and he hit the ground. Stars whirled in front of his vision as they began to laugh. "Anyone wanna play kick the fag?" Karofsky laughed as he kicked Kurt in the ribs.

"Told you this wasn't over, faggot." Azimo cackled, thrilled that he'd thought to include Dave in the beat the fag game.

Kurt's vision swam as they tore his clothes and beat him. His ribs cracked and broke under the constant kicks and punches. Someone stomped on his hand and arm. He sobbed and curled in on himself trying to protect all of his most vital organs.

It was the stunning blow to his back, and then the feeling of his clothes being torn completely off, that left Kurt gasping in fear. As he tried to get away, he felt one of the guys grab his arms and another grab his legs. He cried out, but another kick to his ribs left him coughing and gasping for breath. Kurt watched, fascinated as he spit up red.

He tried to hold on as long as he could, but he felt like someone was ripping him to pieces he began to lose consciousness. He wasn't sure if it was because of all the blood he lost or the pain, but the darkness claimed him quickly, and he was thankful.

Puck had a bad feeling long before he decided to show up at Mercedes church with Finn and rescue their friend. He pulled up to the church she'd mentioned.

"Puck!" She looked surprised to see him.

"Where's Kurt?"

She looked around and shrugged. "Knowing him, he probably saw a fancy pair of shoes and wandered off."

Puck felt anger flood his veins. She'd knowingly brought her so called best friend to sit smack dab in the middle of a group of people who were generally opposed to gays and then left him.

Finn had already started searching for his almost brother when Puck's ringtone began to sing in his pocket. Puck's sudden concern for Kurt was weird, but Finn shook it off as concern for fellow members of glee. He felt the smile on his face at the sound of "Defying Gravity". Puck pulled out his phone and his face immediately went white as he read the text message. A second one came through and Puck ran out of the building.

"Puck!" Finn followed Puck into the car. Puck handed Finn his cell phone. Finn's eyes went wide at the two messages: HLP AZIMIO TKIN ME IN CR. The second message was: 10 MILES STH OF CHURCH IN FLD. Finn quickly dialed 911 as he managed to get in the car before Puck raced down the street, out of the parking lot. Reading the directions Kurt had left them he rattled them off to the dispatcher.

Puck slammed to a halt in the middle of the street and threw the door open. "KURT!" he yelled. "Oh god, Kurt," his hands shook as he dropped beside the mutilated figure.

Kurt was practically naked, pants down around his ankles. His hands had been tied, and his right hand was clearly broken and bleeding. Blood had dripped from the corners of his mouth, and oozed from his ears. Puck closed his eyes at the sight of bruises forming around Kurt's groin and hip area. "He's bad. But he seems to be breathing and has a pulse." Puck forced back a flood of tears. He reached out gently tapping Kurt's face. "Kurt?" he whispered.

At the sight of his beaten and battered friend, Finn felt his stomach lurch and his face lose all color. "He's...he's alive but bleeding badly, please hurry." Finn mumbled to the dispatcher.

"Oh my god," came a hushed whisper of Mercedes Jones. Finn assumed they'd followed them when they'd run from the church, but neither of them were ready to look at her yet.

"He just stopped breathing." Puck's voice shook.

"Then give him CPR!" snapped Finn. Every fiber of his body was screaming this couldn't happen this couldn't possibly happen.

Dr. Jones had just arrived and knelt down beside the boys, "He could have a collapsed lung, son—"

Puck pushed the doctor aside. "Kurt, come on," he ordered, tears clouding his vision as he began to push against the spot where Kurt's heart lay, pumping in and out. He felt the ribs creek beneath his palms. "Please," he cried.

"Noah," Mrs. Jones spoke.

"Leave me alone!" he screamed, crying as people tried to pull him away. The EMTs had arrived already rattling off instructions. Finn gently gripped the teen's bloody hands. "Come on, Puck. We're meeting them at the hospital."

Puck felt his whole world beginning to darken as he looked at Kurt. "Please," he cried as he watched them pull out the paddles on the bloody pale teenager. "Please, no," he whimpered. He brought his hands to his face to scrub his eyes when he saw the blood—Kurt's blood—drenching his hands. He looked over at Finn, who wasn't looking much better, his body was shaking, tears slipping down his face as he pulled out his phone and forced himself to dial his mother.

"Puck," Mercedes gently touched his shoulder, but he flinched away.

"Why! You couldn't just leave him the fuck alone!" he screamed, sobbing still.

"We're moving him to Lima Memorial. Do you boys want to come?" the EMT asked Puck.

Puck and Finn gave very shaky nods as they climbed into the back of the ambulance. He closed his eyes as he leaned forward and grabbed Kurt's hand. "Please, Kurt."

"Mom," Finn's voice sounded distant as he finally got a hold of his mother. "Mom," his voice cracked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Sarah Puckerman arrived at the hospital less than five minutes after the ambulance had arrived. The scene was grim. Puck sat dejected, shoulders practically curled in on himself in an uncomfortable plastic chair as he stared at the floor. Finn sat right beside him, looking lost and terrified, his hands shaking. Each of them had a blanket draped over their shoulders.

The group grew steadily from there. Mercedes and her parents arrived, all looking horrified, followed closely by a frantic Carole, Quinn, Brittany, Santana, Will, Emma, Artie, Tina and Mike. Everyone sat in silence as they waited. Each one looked gutted but none as bad as Puck and Finn.

Two police officers stepped into the waiting room, looking grim, "Noah Puckerman and Finn Hudson?" they asked looking at the group. The two shocked teens glanced up at them. "We were told by some people at the scene that you were the first to arrive. We're going to need your statements."

"Can this wait?" Sarah asked gently as she gripped her son's shoulder.

The first officer, a younger man, shook his head. "I'm sorry. No it can't. If what actually occurred is what we think it is, then we're looking at attempted murder at least. We have to act on this immediately. We'll want to speak with you individually."

"I will," Puck replied. He followed the two officers to a room off of the waiting room, where the officer's shut the door.

"All right, son. Give us as many details as you can, try not to make any assumptions."

"We...we arrived at the church because I was nervous," Puck offered quietly.

"Why were you nervous son?" the second cop, an older gentleman questioned.

Puck glanced at them. "Kurt's gay, and he was headed to a church somewhat against his will. We didn't want to believe anything would happen, but I wanted to come pick him up just in case. So we both headed over there. When we arrived, we noticed that he'd been separated from Mercedes, the person he originally came with. Then I received a couple texts.

"What did they say?"

Puck handed over his cell phone, showing the text messages to the officer. The cop looked down at it for a moment, "We're going to have to confiscate this as evidence."

Puck wasn't thrilled with this idea, but it was in Kurt's best interest to do all he could to help. "We found him exactly ten minutes south of the church in a field just like it said."

"You two boys did a good job. What do you know this kid, Azimio?"

"He goes to our school. He's constantly bullying Kurt along with another kid, Karofsky. Friday, Azimio ganged up on Hummel in the bathroom and promised him it wasn't over when I barged in."

The officer nodded. "We are going to have to talk to Kurt as soon as he wakes up and can speak. We will speak with these two, we've already got a couple cops picking them up as we speak. Please feel free to let us know any other information; we'll be speaking with the doctor as soon as they're available."

After a few more minutes, Puck exited the room feeling worse than he had to begin with, somehow reliving the moments between finding Kurt and the ride to the hospital had been impossibly hard. He looked at Finn and nodded.

The other teen stood and made his way into the small room, where he sat down without a word. "Officer?" Finn spoke hesitantly. "What will happen to them for this?"

The officer nodded. "They'll face a trial, and depending whether or not Kurt Hummel survives, their sentences will vary. We could be looking at a few years...or as much as life in prison for the boys. Unfortunately at this time there isn't much we can say for sure."

With Finn in the room now, Sarah looked at her son, "Sweetheart, why don't you let Artie help clean you up?" she said, gently rubbing her son's back. He was pale, his eyes haunted. Sarah was seriously worried that if Kurt didn't survive that he'd take two more lives with him—Burt and Noah.

Puck looked up at her, his eyes watering. He started shaking again. "Ma... He's just a kid."

Sarah sighed as she let her son lean against her shoulder and cry. "I know Noah," she whispered.

"Maybe we should pray," Quinn offered.

Puck exploded. He literally saw white. "He doesn't believe in God," his first words were dangerously quiet and low. He doesn't need your fucking prayers!" he exploded at the top of the lungs. "This is all your fault!"

"I'm sorry?" Quinn blanked.

"All of you." He rounded on everyone, "This is what happens when you force people to fit into tiny little boxes! He didn't need this! He needed support, he needed love, he needed his damn friends! But you were all so fuckin' worried about his eternal damnation that you forgot about the damnation he's living now! His father is in a coma! Now they both could die! Did any of you even bother to ask where he was staying? If he was eating? How he was coping? Did you notice that he missed all of Friday, that he spent most of Thursday hiding in the bathroom? What kind of friends are you people?" His anger only continued to grow. "God doesn't give a shit about whether you believe or not. He wants us to be happy, but you're all so damn determined to save everyone!"

"Noah," Sarah warned, gripping her son's arm, knowing the nurses were beginning to look at him.

Noah felt his stomach plummet. "You all call him your friends, but when he needed it the most, not one of you were there. No one bothered to ask him if he was okay." He looked at Artie. "I did ask, and when he admitted to sitting in a big house alone and not eating, we took care of him." The anger was evident on Puck's face. "I hope you're all pleased with yourselves because murder is a sin," he growled as he sank into the chair, exhausted from his outburst. Each of the glee members was stuck in their own world of self-loathing and pity. Rachael's sniffle caught him by surprise as she swiped at her tears, despite their continuous path down her cheeks.

"Noah Puckerman?" A young woman stepped out, dressed in doctor's scrubs and a coat.

"That's me," Puck whispered, his voice shaky.

The nurse gave him a sad smile and handed him a small plastic bag. "Kurt Hummel is being taken to surgery, the severity of his injuries wouldn't really allow us to stabilize him much. He was awake briefly and asked for his father."

"He's here at the hospital," Puck replied. "In a coma."

She nodded, "I was afraid so when I heard his last name. I've brought you his personal items and some scrubs for you to change into."

"Will he make it?" Puck questioned.

Nancy sighed gently. "I don't know. Tragedy seems to follow that child. But we'll do our best that much I promise."

Once Puck had taken a shower in one of the rooms, he slipped into the ICU where Burt was still lying in comatose. He sat down next to the bed, his eyes red rimmed and blood shot. "I'm a terrible person, Mr. H," he whispered. He closed his eyes, leaning his head on Burt's arm. "I should've stopped this earlier, anything but let this happen. I'm in love with your son. I love him, and I'm so scared that if he dies—" Puck put his head down feel the tears flowing down his face.

Eight-year-old Puck glanced up as he heard Burt Hummel speaking quietly with his mother, "Is there a reason you're letting him grow a Mohawk, Sarah?"

She giggled slightly. "Yeah, he thinks it makes him a rebel."

The older Hummel nodded, as if understanding or something. "Right, how's the baby and Noah handling their father leaving?" No one asked him that question, Noah felt mad and he kept hoping daddy was coming back, but he got the distinct impression daddy wasn't ever going to return to his family.

"Well, Noah basically won't talk about it, and Lily is too little to remember him, which probably isn't a bad thing."

"He wasn't a bad man, Sarah, he just made poor decisions. Your son's a good kid."

Sarah smirked. "I'm inclined to think my little Puck likes your Kurt."

"Me too. I'm sure we should be more upset by this—"

Sarah shrugged. "They are boys. They're too young to understand that fully yet. Beside we're here to love them no matter what."

No longer really paying attention to the adults, Noah smiled as he finished up his final picture and looked at Kurt who was now grinning from ear to ear.

"Daddy!" Kurt called excitedly as he hurried over to his father, smiling as he held up his bright pink cast that now had little skulls and crossbones, "Look what Noah did!"

Burt chuckled as he swept his son into his arms. "It's beautiful, son. Nice job, Noah."

Sarah smiled softly as she looked at the two Hummels. "We should probably get going. Noah?"

"Can I stay with Kurt tonight?" Noah asked, sensing that his friend needed him, and honestly Noah wasn't that opposed to a little time with his friend either. Since daddy had left, Noah really only had Burt, Kurt and his mom and sister.

Burt smirked. "Fine by me. I even promise to feed him."

"Oooh, are you going to give him food poisoning?"

The adults laughed out loud, knowing it was good for Burt to get a moment long enough to really laugh. "No."

Noah and Kurt spent the rest of the night laughing, playing video games and talking. When Burt descended the stairs that evening, his heart ached at the sight of Puckerman cuddling Kurt's small frame, as if trying to protect him from the world. Noah only woke up briefly when he felt Burt drop a kiss to his forehead and saw Kurt get one too. "Goodnight boys," Burt whispered.

"Noah," a gentle voice startled Puck from his sleep. Opening up his eyes he looked up to see Nancy leaning over him.

"What time is it?" He groaned as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his face and eyes.

"It's almost nine at night sweetie. Kurt just got out of surgery. I thought you'd like to be the first to know," she explained.

Puck nodded. "How is he?" he questioned.

"The doctor will fill you and Mrs. Hudson in. They'll meet you in the room shortly."

"Thanks—any chance he can be moved in here with his dad?"

She smiled. "He's in the step down unit now. I'll see if I can't pull some strings."

Puck nodded and followed her to the room before she disappeared to go get the rest of his family. The doctor was inside finishing up some notes when she saw Puck. Stepping aside he felt a little better that all the blood was gone, but Kurt was still very pale and looked so tiny among all the tubes and wires coming out of him. "Your friend is very lucky."

"He's strong," Puck offered quietly.

She smiled, her hand out to shake. "Yes he is. I'm Dr. Loyle."

"Noah Puckerman." Puck replied taking her hand and grinning slyly at her, then he realized this was Kurt's doctor and quickly withdrew his hand.

She chuckled and went back to finishing up the notes until Carole, Finn and Sarah stepped into the room. "Excellent you're all here. I'm Dr. Loyle, I'll be Kurt's attending while he's here."

"How is he?" Carole asked quietly. Puck noticed that her eyes were red from crying. She looked like she was losing her world.

"He's holding his own, but I won't lie. He's in very critical condition. He had a broken rib prior to today's events, which unfortunately punctured his lung, causing it to collapse. We're watching it now for signs of infection and/or fluid buildup. Our concern at this point is that it'll cause permanent damage to his lungs. There is some swelling around his spinal cord that we're concerned about and will be watching that, so it's important to keep him as still as possible at this point. His less severe injuries were internal bleeding, a broken forearm, two more broken ribs and a serious concussion. We have him in a medically induced coma right now in hopes to aid the healing of his spine and lungs."

"How long?" Puck asked.

The doctor sighed. "A few days for sure, possibly a week or two until we're sure that waking up won't cause more damage. I've also been notified that you've requested to have Kurt moved into the room with his father. We'll move him first thing tomorrow morning. I don't want any of you to feel that this is a death sentence. We have every hope that he'll come out of this fine, and he came through surgery with flying colors. Our main concern is giving his body enough time to heal properly."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Seriously, there are no words to how sorry I am that it has taken so long to update this story when it's completely finished! **

**Chapter Ten**

_**September 24**__**th**__**, 2010**_

Burt woke up sometime mid afternoon that Friday, the room was empty. He looked over to see the chairs were all empty, except for Kurt who lay unmoving in the next bed. Burt reached over and gently pushed the button to put his bed in an up order. He looked over at his son, concern causing his brow to furrow. Something wasn't right.

Pressing his hand to his chest, he carefully pushed himself over to the edge of the bed, and carefully put one foot on the ground, and then the other. Reaching out he gripped the chair and staggered a few feet, he then gripped the edge of Kurt's bed. "Kurt?" He croaked, "Kurtie," He whispered, reaching out he pressed his hand to Kurt's forehead, concerned when he found it damp with sweat and hot. "Nurse," He called his voice weak, "NURSE!" He called louder this time, groaning in pain as it shot through his chest.

"Mr. Hummel-" The nurse began.

"Kurt-he's…he's sick," Burt managed as she began to try and move him back to his bed.

"Yes we are aware-"

"No!" He hissed, groaning again as the pain lanced through his chest, "He's running a fever. I know my boy, something is wrong!"

She looked over at Kurt, pressing her hand to his forehead; a fever was putting it mildly. "Lie back down, please, and I'll go get the doctor. He wouldn't want you to fall or get sick again."

As Burt carefully moved and supported himself back to his bed the nurse looked at his son's chest, studying the molted and bruised flesh before letting out a low string of curses and hitting the call button. Burt watched as things began to happen around him, another orderly had come to help him back in his bed, but everyone else was swarming around his son giving orders-and after another two life long minutes, all the machines began to wail.

"He's in v-fib!"

It was like watching a horror movie in slow motion as the doctors tried everything they could to bring his child back from the brink of death. Was this how Kurt had felt, so lost and hopeless? He glanced over at the door to watch Noah standing there in horror, tears coursing down his face.

One minute passed…then another…then one more before someone finally spoke, "I've got a pulse!" The doctor called, "Run some blood tests find out what kind of string of infection he's developed, check his lungs for signs of infection, start him on antibotics, I need cool compresses and someone grab me a cold bag of saline," She ordered.

Burt watched as the three other medical staff headed out of the room. The doctor stopped over to him, "You should've have been out of bed, but I'm glad you were." She offered gently, "Your son appears to have developed a staph infection. We're going to run some tests and do our best to fight it."

Burt could only nod, feeling sick over the thought that now that he was awake, his baby may not make it. He felt a hand grip his and looked up to see Noah standing over his bed. "He's strong Mr. H."

"I know Mohawk, but it sounds like he was already down to begin with…who kicks a kid when he's already down."

_Burt pushed the door open gently to the bedroom and looked inside, it was well past midnight and his stubborn boy had already headed off to bed. He now lay in his Tinkerbell flannel pants asleep, Burt had to smile as he lay atop a set of Star Wars sheets, his son was certainly different, he granted the kid that. _

_ Stepping forward he crouched down in front of the bed, gently brushing the hair from his son's face as he slept soundly sprawled on his tummy. "Hey little guy," He whispered softly. "I know you miss mommy, but I'm still here," He murmured before leaning forward and pressing his lips to his son's head. "I'll always be here." He stood and watched his son for another long moment before standing and heading to the door. _

_ "Daddy?" A gentle voice caught his attention. _

_ He glanced over his shoulder, surprised to see the faded blue eyes staring up at him, "Will you sing?" _

_ Burt smiled softly, and nodded, "Sure kiddo, scoot over." He kicked off his shoes and snuggled down on the bed against the headboard, taking his son into his arms. He smiled as the little head rested easily against his chest. He began to hum a few bars, singing softly to his child. _

_**Come stop your crying  
>It will be all right<br>Just take my hand Hold it tight**_

I will protect you  
>from all around you<br>I will be here  
>Don't you cry<p>

For one so small,  
>you seem so strong<br>My arms will hold you,  
>keep you safe and warm<br>This bond between us  
>Can't be broken<br>I will be here  
>Don't you cry<p>

_He watched as his son slipped into a gentle slumber, and smiled, he forgot sometimes how much his boy did look like him. He had more of Angie's angelic facial features, and certainly more of her mannerisms, but there were things Kurt did, said and had that were completely Burt. _

_The boy worked with his hands and he did it well, if Burt wasn't positive the kid was destined for fame and fortune he'd say his son was meant to be a mechanic or surgeon the way he could fix a car and seemed to enjoy it. _

_Then of course there was his eyes, while they were a deeper blue than his, they were definitely his eyes. His laugh-not the fake one he occasionally put on when he was embarrased or was faking interest, but his laughter where he'd lost control he was laughing so hard was his fathers. _

_Despite his wife's many attempts, Kurt's hair was from his father as well, dark straight, unlike Angie's strawberry blonde. His ears were also Burt's, not that either of the parents would ever admit that part. _

_**'Cause you'll be in my heart  
>Yes, you'll be in my heart<br>From this day on  
>Now and forever more<strong>_

You'll be in my heart  
>No matter what they say<br>You'll be here in my heart, always

Why can't they understand  
>the way we feel<br>They just don't trust  
>what they can't explain<br>I know we're different but,  
>deep inside us<br>We're not that different at all

_Burt couldn't help but be in awe over his child, stunned at how beautiful the child had been when he'd first been born and how handsome he was now. He could remember the first week they'd brought Kurt home, he'd been so panicked that he'd wake up one morning and Kurt wouldn't be breathing or he'd fallen out of his crib, that after thirteen checks in one night, Angie had drug the crib into their room and on Burt's side of the bed so he could stare at the infant all night. _

_For awhile he wife had joked that Burt got up more during the night to watch the sleeping infant than she did. But Burt was so thrilled to have a little boy that he just couldn't stop looking at the tiny baby. Now here he lay with his tiny baby, who wasn't so tiny anymore but would always be his baby._

_**And you'll be in my heart  
>Yes, you'll be in my heart<br>From this day on  
>Now and forever more<strong>_

Don't listen to them  
>'Cause what do they know<br>We need each other,  
>to have, to hold<br>They'll see in time  
>I know<p>

When destiny calls you  
>You must be strong<br>I may not be with you  
>But you've got to hold on<br>They'll see in time  
>I know<br>We'll show them together

'Cause you'll be in my heart  
>Yes, you'll be in my heart<br>From this day on,  
>Now and forever more<p>

Oh, you'll be in my heart  
>No matter what they say<br>You'll be in my heart, always  
>Always<p>

Life support, it felt like a death sentence to Burt Hummel as he lay in bed, getting better every day, while his son grew steadily worse. The doctors explained that he had a viral staph infection that was shutting down his organs one by one. Their concern was if they couldn't beat it, and it infected his blood stream he would die. The men who'd done this to him had been apprehended yesterday, Noah had come to tell him. But now, Noah almost refused to come in-nor did the rest of the Glee club. Burt felt a wave of anger over it, not Noah…he was far too aware of the guilt the Mohawk kid was carrying around over his son's injuries.

But now he was beginning to think that Kurt felt alone even inside his own body. He looked over at his son and felt tears fill his eyes. "I'll talk to the club tomorrow," Sarah Puckerman offered from where she stood in the doorway.

"They won't listen. They claim to be his friend…" He shook his head, "I want to blame them but how can I."

Sarah stepped forward, gently gripping Burt's hand. "Burt, he's going to make it, he's a strong boy."

"How strong before he breaks."

"Strong enough," she offered quietly. "I'll do what I can, you've always been the champion for these kids Burt, let us do it for awhile."

He nodded. "He's my baby Sarah," he whimpered.

Sarah sat down on the edge of the bed and hugged the man close. Kissing the top of his head, "I know." She whispered, "I know."

Burt Hummel hadn't cried on anyone's shoulders since his wife died, but as he sat there and cried for his son, he realized that his son had been the strong one for the past week and a half, now it was his turn, only he'd take better care of himself.

As Sarah got up to leave, dropping a kiss to Burt's forehead, she paused at the doorway and smiled sadly. "Noah's terrified you're going to beat him up if he hurt's Kurt."

Burt smiled slightly, "May beat them both up after all of this," He joked. "You tell your Mohawk that he should come see me and I'll set him straight in a good way."

"I'll tell him when I get home."

Burt nodded and turned his head to watch his son, eyes beginning to slide shut. He sighed at the hope that his son would pull out of this fine. "Please don't take him…you've take my wife, and my daughter…I don't have anyone left but him." he murmured as he fell asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

_**September 24**__**th**__**, 2010**_

Noah was dressed in dark wash jeans and a dark shirt, on his way to school, a bag slung over his shoulder he stepped into the hospital room, giving Burt Hummel and his son a weary look. Kurt was still hooked up to various machines pumping life into him. Burt glanced up from his newspaper and breakfast and smiled at Noah. "Good to see you decided to come."

Noah shrugged, "Ma said you wanted to talk to me."

"I do. Take a seat," He pointed to the edge of the bed.

Noah dropped his bag in the nearby chair and took a seat at the edge of Burt's hospital bed. "Noah, I've known you since you were six years old. And there have been times where I was thankful for you being friends with my son, and other times where I wished you'd gone away." Noah had the decency to turn a little red at that. Burt continued all the same, "Noah, you are a fantastic young man, you aren't perfect-and that's okay. I want you to know that while you haven't always been the best person to my son and other kids like him…that doesn't have to define you."

"But-"

Burt shook his head, "When I was your age I wasn't any different than you, I made mistakes, I was an idiot and sometimes I was downright mean. But then I had a son and I realized that as a parent I never wanted those things to happen to my child." Noah nodded knowing exactly how that felt despite that they hadn't kept his daughter. "What makes a man great, Noah, is his ability to see past mistakes and grow from them, I think you're doing that now. You've told me that you want to be with my boy-"

"I do," Noah said immediately, "It sounds stupid, but until Beth I didn't see myself doing anything. Like I said Kurt was the only kid to tell me I could do whatever. But now…now I want to follow him to New York, I want to create a life with him…and maybe even a family some day." It must have been the right thing to say, because Burt looked pleased by the statement.

"Noah, any man would be lucky to have you as a son-in-law, but I'm proud of who you have become, and I'd be proud to call you son."

Noah looked at him, reaching out in a surprising gesture for both men, he hugged Burt Hummel. Burt smiled and hugged the boy back. "Now go to school before you're late."

"Yes sir." Noah stated, before he left though he rounded Burt's bed and stepped over to Kurt. He gripped the boy's hand and smiled sadly. "I'm waiting," he whispered and pressed a kiss to Kurt's forehead.

The love and kindness in those two gestures made Burt believe maybe anything was possible.

Later that day, Noah stepped into the choir room surprised to find Sue Sylverster and his mother standing there…oddly enough talking quietly. "Uh…" He paused, "Everything okay?" He asked his mother.

"Everything's fine Mohawk take a seat." Sue stated.

Looking a little unsure of himself, Noah took a seat in his usual back seat, while the others began to file into the room. They all looked unsure of why the two women were in the room, even Will who stepped in allowed his eyebrows to furrow, "Uh-Sue-"

"Can it William, I'm here for a reason and nothing your oddly sharpen hair says will convince me otherwise."

Sarah chuckled softly as she shook her head. Once all the students were inside, both women closed the door. "We aren't going to be shot are we?" Tina asked quietly.

Noah smirked slightly but shook his head, he'd basically avoided his fellow glee students last week, but his mother had insisted Monday he had to return to school.

"No one is getting shot," Sarah offered, "But we are here to talk to you guys about tolerance and respect, because despite how different each of you is and the friendships you've created in this group, you're all lacking those two key elements." She took a calming breath, "Yesterday Kurt Hummel, your closest friend until last week went into cardiac arrest. He was dead for three minutes." She looked at the grim and stricken looks on each of their faces, a couple of the girls were crying. "He's not on life support with a serious staph infection; the doctors are highly concerned about him beating this. And how many of you have come to visit him since this occurred-or his father for that matter, and for those of you who didn't know, he woke up two days ago."

Everyone looked around as only Finn's and Noah's hands went up in the air, and Artie's to their surprise. "Congratulations," Sue spoke, "You are all failures." She offered, "Except you three…you're just idiots." She stated, causing the three guys to smirk slightly and shake their heads. "You all call yourselves friends, and sure you support one another occasionally as needed, but when Ladyface needed it the most every damn one of you was busy shoving religion down his throat-you didn't care that he didn't believe, you didn't care that he'd asked you not to, you just went ahead and continued to do it anyway-except Mohawk." Noah looked around.

"We only wanted to help," Quinn offered to her coach.

"Kids, religion isn't about making everyone realize you call yourselves Christians, Jews or whatever, it's about making yourself known to God. It's not your job to convert every non-believer or specifically ones you think should find God. If Kurt didn't want you to pray, then don't pray in front of him, you can continue your prayers elsewhere, but you have to remember, Kurt was in charge. And what he wanted should've been the MOST important thing to all of you," Sarah stated.

"Instead what you all should've been doing was asking him how he was, giving him a supportive shoulder-"

"Like you did with telling the school board."

"It helped Kurt, he had a little less stress to handle when he was in this class," stated Noah.

"So you're saying all of this was our fault?" Rachael asked.

"No, this wasn't anyone's fault but the idiots who decided to hurt your friend. But you each played a part in him being caught off guard. As friends, what you should do now is be there to support Kurt and his father, because they have got a very long road in front of the both of them, it will likely be a very long time before you ever find your lives back to normal."

"Spirituality, religion, beliefs are about each individual person and how they approach them. It's not your place to try and force others to believe, or to think you can save them. Kurt will die one day, hopefully far into the future, and if God is real, he'll judge Kurt at that time. But I think you'll all find that god doesn't judge on gender or sexuality, he judges based on the life you've lived and last I checked Kurt's lived a beautiful life." Sarah spoke before turning to her son and giving him a soft smile, "I'll be at the hospital, Noah, if you'd like to stop by and check on your sister."

Noah nodded watching his mother leaving, while she wasn't perfect and occasionally was a little clueless, she was a caring mother.

Sue stood there for one more moment looking at all of them, "Each one of you needs to consider where you stand and how you view Ladyface before you see him. Because he may never look at any of you the same way again. You need to decide now if you see him as just another non-Christian gay kid you can change, or Kurt Hummel, the kid you love to gossip and hang out with." Without another word she left. Everyone just sat there in shock and awe.

Sarah arrived at the hospital nearly forty minutes later to find Burt sitting up in bed talking quietly with Carole who was holding his head. Kurt was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Kurt?" She asked almost panicked.

Carole looked over her shoulder and squeezed Burt's hand, "They moved him into isolation in hopes that it would get rid of the staph infection quicker."

Sarah felt her heart drop, "He's getting worse?"

"His fever was at 104 when they moved him…they were worried if they didn't bring it down he'd suffer brain damage-they said something about a ice bath and then isolation…we haven't heard anything since."

"He's fighting Burt." Sarah whispered.

The door to the room opened just then, and both Kurt's doctor and his own doctor stepped into the room. "Mr. Hummel, we'd like to speak to you alone for a moment."

Burt glanced at the two women, feeling his hands begin to shake slightly, but he nodded and watched his future wife and best friend leave. He looked at the two of them, "He's dying isn't he."

"Yes," Dr. Loyle answered softly. "Yes your son is dying. He's a very sick little boy. However, we've recently started looking into a newer way to beat infections such a staph, it's a stronger dose of antibiotics-"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you are his father and we have to, in addition, it's possible that the concoction could kill him."

"You just said the staph infection would kill him-"

"No, the staph infection will kill him; it's already showing signs of seeping into his blood stream. We're at a dead end, if this antibiotic doesn't work…he'll be dead within 48 hours of it entering his blood stream."

"So I don't have a choice?" Burt whispered his eyes burning at the fear of losing his only son.

Dr. Loyle sighed as she came over and sat down beside Burt, "Your son displayed strength unlike most kids his age when he sat with you. While he ran himself into exhaustion, he did show that strength, and I believe he's strong enough to beat this, the antibiotic may just offer a little boost to his system. You always have a choice Mr. Hummel. You can decide to let your son go as peacefully as possible, we can put him into a medically induced coma so he doesn't feel the pain of the organ failure and he'll die in his sleep."

Burt shook his head, "I can't lose my boy." He whispered softly. "I just can't." He looked at them and nodded, "Give him the antibiotic…"

With a nod Dr. Loyle headed out of the room, leaving Burt's doctor in the room with him. "You're doing the right thing, Mr. Hummel, we've only tested the medication in the trials a few times, but so far we've headed excellent numbers."

"Yeah well…let's hope they stay excellent." Burt replied softly.

"Get some rest Mr. Hummel; we should know fairly quickly if this new drug will destroy the infection."

Burt closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the pillow and felt the pain beginning to build in his chest, not from another heart attack but the thought of living without his child.

_"Hi Burt," the soft voice greeted him. _

_ He smiled warmly at the sight of her. "I haven't died have I, I thought I was sad-" _

_ She chuckled as she took his hand, "No, Burt, you're very much alive and doing very well. But Kurt was right, you've got to start eating better." _

_ Burt rolled his eyes as he accepted her hand and followed her out of the hospital room until they were at Kurt's room. Stepping inside they both looked down at him. "You've done such an amazing job with him." She whispered reaching out to caress his forehead. _

_ "He's dying, I didn't do that good a job, sleeping on the job." _

_ "This wasn't your fault Burt Hummel so don't blame yourself." _

_ He nodded, "Hard not to," He replied sadly. "God Ange, I just…" He shook his head, "That amazing feeling of fatherhood hasn't changed in eighteen years." He whispered. _

_ "You are an incredible father, and I promise you, Kurt will pull through this." _

_ "Then why are you here?"_

_ She smiled, "I spoke to him at his darkest hour, I figured it only fair to come visit my hubby too." _

_ He laughed. "I miss you."_

_ "I know." _

_ "We're never going to be the same again are we?" _

_ She shrugged, "I'm inclined to say you'll be better than ever. This…jarred Kurt, I think he's realized he's taken advantage of the simplicity of your relationship at times. Kurt…adores you Burt, more than I think even you know." _

_ "Feeling is mutual." _

_ "This will ground the relationship, and maybe make it easier for the two of you to connect. Parenthood isn't easy Burt; certainly you've figured this out by now." _

_ "No kidding. So many times I wished you'd been there to help." _

_ She chuckled, "You never really needed me, Burt. Sure he missed me to pieces and so did you, but you still would've been a fantastic father with me there too." _

_ "I think we're going to need a really good therapist after all of this." _

_ Angie laughed softly, "I think you're probably right. It's going to take awhile before he feels safe again, but you're the one who's going to help him with that." _

_ Burt nodded, "Don't s'pose you know if he's going to end up married to that Mohawk kid."_

_ "I do know, and all you need to know is at this moment he'll be happy with a family and you." _

_ "Right…just thought I'd ask." _

_ "I have to go now, Burt. Take care of yourself and our wonderful son. You've got so many more wonderful moments to spend together." _


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

_**October 2**__**nd**__**, 2010**_

__Night had fallen in Lima, Ohio; Burt Hummel had woken once since his dream of Angie, to find Carole at his bedside again. She'd since left to go home. Burt glanced around and paged the nurse. Nancy stepped into the room, "Mr. Hummel, did you call me just because you're bored?"

He chuckled softly, "How'd you know? Can I get up?" It had been a week since he'd woken from his heart attack, and while he still had to take it easy the doctors had said he was already showing signs of improvement. Unfortunately he'd also spent an entire week waiting to hear if his son would live or die. The cops had been by twice seeking to speak to the boy, only to find out he was still in a coma. They'd spoke briefly with Burt, not wanting to cause any undo stress.

She looked at him seriously for a moment, "Well, the doctor has mentioned wanting to get you moving now and you've had no issues making your way to the bathroom, you want to go see your son?"

"Yes."

"I'll go check with the doctor, give me just a moment."

He nodded and he threw back his covers, feeling the stiffness in his joints from lying still too long. When she returned a few minutes later she was smiling, "He said you can walk as long as I go with you, and as long as you sit down once we get there."

She made quick work of moving the IV pole so he could use that to walk with, and with her on his other side, they made their way slowly out of the room and down the hall to the isolation room. Burt looked at his son and sighed, "No change?"

Nancy smiled warmly, "Actually the infection is showings signs of receding," She explained. "You were asleep and we didn't want to wake you. His temperature started dropping about an hour after we gave him the antibiotics. The doctors are already talking about removing him from life support tomorrow."

Burt felt the flutter in his heart and smiled, "Thank god," he whispered.

"Your son is an incredible fighter Mr. Hummel, you should be very proud."

"I am." Burt Hummel replied softly. "I am…any chance I can go in and see him?"

"Not now, sorry, once the infection is completely gone and we get the okay to remove him from isolation then absolutely."

"Okay," Burt could understand that, he didn't want to be the reason his son ended up dying after all. "Any of the Glee kids come by?"

She smiled, "I'm assuming you mean the plethora of teens that we never see but have come more in the past two weeks, yes some of them were here earlier, they left when they were told they couldn't go in."

"Good," He replied.

She wasn't sure if he meant good they'd left or that they'd been here, but she didn't push the issue. "They're considering releasing you Tuesday." She offered. "We've got a nutritionist to talk to you about how to avoid this in the future."

"Can't wait," He lied softly smirking.

"Also, here," She handed him a card.

"What's this?"

"It's a good friend of mine…actually he's my brother, he's a psychologist for Gay teens who've been subjected to hate crimes. He specializes in helping them and their families heal…I think he'd be a huge help to Kurt after everything you two have been through."

He looked down at the card, "Thank you, I'll call him."

"Right, let's get you back to your bed."

Once Burt was settled back into bed, he flicked the TV, and was surprised to find Sue's Corner was on. He smiled at his old friend. "Oh Suzie," He chuckled.

_"For those of you who've been fallowing my latest diatribe about religion, I'm happy to inform you that I just got news Lima's own Burt Hummel is doing well after his heart attack, and that his son, who suffered the brutish beating for being himself, appears to be recovering as well. The world is a cruel enough place already people, why make it any harder on people who are simply trying to live their lives. Let's try and make the world a little easier to live in so that we don't all decide to kill one another in the end…and that's how Sue Sees It," She said holding up her hand. _

Burt chuckled softly. "I never miss your show, Sue," he offered, glancing over at the door where Sue stood.

"Jeanie's praying for me," she whispered softly. "My big sister…Burt…what happened to me?"

"You've become old and bitter," he laughed playfully as she came to sit beside his bed.

"I hate you." She stated.

"So I've heard. Look Suz, you know I don't believe in God much either, but the basic fact is…if he does exist he doesn't make mistakes. Your sister, my son…they're beautiful just the way they are. The way God intended them to be."

"How is Ladyface?"

Burt rolled his eyes, "That's the reason you're not his God-mother."

She smiled. "At least I'm asking!"

"He's holding his own, the doctors said the infection is dying off and they'll look to remove him from life support tomorrow if he continues to improve."

"Good, tell him to get better I need him to win the Championship this year."

He smiled, "I'll mention it."

"Get better, Bear."

"Go to hell, Cheerio," he shot back playfully as she left the room.

_**October 3**__**rd**__**, 2010**_

__"Mr. Hummel," a gentle hand on his shoulder, woke Burt from his slumber. He looked around; the sun was shining through the window. A nurse stood over him smiling warmly. "I thought you might like to know your son was just removed from life support and the venilator, he's breathing on his own. We've also lowered his sedation."

"Can I see him?"

She nodded, "The isolation was removed an hour ago. You might like to see this anyway." She helped him out of bed, and his eyes grew wide when he heard singing echoing down the hallway. As they grew closer, Burt felt his heart swell with pride at the sight of all the Glee kids, including Will, standing around Kurt's bed singing. The only one seated was Noah, who was holding Kurt's hand, but still singing softly.

"How long?"

"Puckerman's been here for a few hours, before they took him off life support, he went in as soon as they removed the isolation. Though I think he would've gone into the cleaning room and completely santized himself if it meant sitting with that boy."

"He's a good kid."

"They all are."

Burt nodded, suddenly thankful maybe the kids weren't as stubborn as he'd orginally thought. "Do you want me to clear them out?" the nurse asked.

"No, can I wait here…"

"Of course. I'm going to drop a couple of breakfast trays off, let me know if you need anything."

Burt watched them as they came to an end of the song, a couple of the kids noticed him and excused themselves, Mercedes approached him first though, her big brown eyes filled with tears. "Mr. Hummel…" She began but found herself suddenly unable to speak.

Burt didn't need to hear it, he reached out and pull the teen to his chest, she cried in his arms briefly. "That boy in there thinks the world of you Mercedes, and I know when he wakes up he won't blame you. So put that thought out of your head, okay?" he smiled as she nodded into his shoulder. "Now, I'll make you guys all a deal, you all get out of here so I can have a moment with my boys, and you can all come to our first Friday night dinner when he's home."

"Yes sir!" the kids' choursed. He gave a couple other kids hugs, Artie, Finn, even Quinn before they all finally left. Will looked at him, "Mr. Hummel?"

"Thank you for lookin' after my kid."

"I didn't do a very good job."

Burt shrugged, "Thought that counts an' all that."

Will nodded and headed to the elevator with his kids, leaving Noah and Kurt alone in the room. Burt slid the door open and smiled as he heard Noah talking. "I think your dad likes me…well a little. It'll probably take a while." He paused, "The Gleeks are sorry for the way they treated you, and while that's really just a start…I thought you'd appreciate it….even Rachael is apologizing, and for her that's like movin' a mountain or something. Dude you gotta wake up soon, I think Coach Sylvester is threatening to find another French vocalist…which I'm pretty sure there isn't one in this school."

Noah smiled, "You already look better. Though you're gonna hate that it looks like you have a zit right-"

"Puckerman," Burt warned him, "the kid's barely conscious, don't give him a panic attack."

Noah glanced up and grinned, "Hey Mr. H."

"Hey kid, you wanna go grab the old man a cup of coffee and see if you can high jack a low fat…anything…"

Noah chuckled softly. "I'll see what I can do, but I'm not Kurt. He's far better at that."

"Do your best."

Burt stepped over to the bed for the first time since Kurt had gone into cardiac arrest and smiled sadly. "You are…a brat," he joked gently. "I think you took ten years off my life there kid." He looked down at his son and sighed as he ran his hand over the kid's hair. "I'm sorry I scared you, that I put you through all this…and Kurt…" He sighed, "I'm sorry the last words I said to you were disappointment. I was," he sighed, "I was hurt kid, because you're growing up and I'm so afraid that you're going to grow up and leave and then," he closed his eyes. "I'm scared you're going to forget me," he laughed feeling stupid.

"Never," the word was croaked and weak, but Burt felt a small smile and tears slide down his face at the sight of half open blue eyes.

"Hey you," Burt whispered, pulling the chair close. "You're awake."

Kurt reached out, his hand shaky and touched his father's face, "Need to shave," He whispered weakly. Then he grew serious, "Please don't ever do that again."

Burt smiled as he pressed the good hand to his cheek then kissed his son's palm, "Hate to break it to you too kiddo, but you could use a shave yourself."

"Hurt," he whispered.

"I'll get the nurse son, you've been pretty sick."

Burt was about to step away when he realized Kurt still had a grip on his clothes. He looked down at the small hand gripping his shirt then back up to see tearful blue eyes staring at him. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked gently as he perched himself on the bed. "You should be happy, we're both fine."

But once the tears had started, Kurt couldn't stop them. Burt carefully scooted down on the bed and gently pulled his son into his arms, careful of any wires or something. "Daddy's got you," he whispered. He was positive that Kurt's sobbing wasn't helping his ribs, but he didn't have the heart to stop the poor child.

Burt lost track of how long Kurt had cried. What he did notice was at some point, Kurt's good hand, that had snuck around to hug his father, was now more relaxed, and while there was still a little heat in the boy's face from crying, he'd fallen asleep. "Burt?" Noah asked gently.

"Shh, he's sleeping, will you go get the nurse."

"He woke up?"

Burt nodded, "Started crying…I didn't have the heart to stop him."

Noah nodded and put the food and drinks down on the table by the wall and headed out the door again to get the nurse. Burt removed himself from his son's grip, but kept ahold of his hand, talking soothingly to the boy.

"I hear we had someone awake," the nurse said as she entered. She smiled at the sight of the boy who'd clearly cried himself to sleep. "How did he seem to you?"

"He said he was in pain. You're not upset?"

She shrugged, "If he woke up once, he'll wake up again, his vitals look excellent," she stated taking his pulse. "I'll check with the doctor and up his pain meds a little for now, but not too much."

Burt nodded and looked over at Noah. "Thanks Mohawk."

"You're gonna call me that forever, aren't you?"

Burt smirked, "Something about an eight year old growing a mohawk sort of brands you with the nickname forever, yes."

"Great our kids are gonna call me Daddy Mohawk."

"I'll do what I can," Burt grinned.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

_**October 4**__**th**__**, 2010**_

__Carole had been sitting in the room for the past hour, talking quietly with Burt, when the doctor stepped in and smiled at them both. "Mr. Hummel we've run a battery of exams and while you're not back to 100%, I'm pleased to say we feel comfortable releasing you later today." Burt smiled at Carole who was grinning in excitement, "There are however, some conditions."

"Okay…"

"You can only come in and see your son once a day for two hours at a time until we release him. You need your rest as does he. A nutrionist is coming by in an hour to talk about some foods that are healthier for you to eat, and you're also going to start working out. Steadily at first, we don't want to trigger another arrythimia, but with exercise and food as well as some medications you'll be on, you shouldn't any further issues."

"Medications?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Hummel. Once you've had the heart attack, your heart isn't the same, it requires daily medication."

Burt sighed, "I suppose if that's the worst of it. How long before I can return to work?"

"I think if you agree to stick to the desk for the next couple weeks, that probably by the end of the month after your follow up exam, you should be able to return to some of your lighter jobs. I'd perfer you not deal with anything heavy until after the New Year."

Burt figured he could do that. "All right," as long as it meant staying healthy.

"Also we need to cut down on stress, now I'm aware you have two teenagers," Burt chuckled softly. "However, you the less stress you're under then the better off you are."

"Great two over dramatic teenagers and I'm supposed to avoid stress," Burt joked.

"Do your best, and as always should you have any questions please feel free to contact us."

Burt suddenly remembered something, "Doc, if you could…could you call this psychologist, I'd like to speak with him."

The doctor looked down at the card Burt had just handed him and smiled, "He's one of the best. I'll contact him now."

"Thank you doctor."

"A psychologist?" Carole asked once the doctor left, "Are you all right?"

Burt nodded, "It's for Kurt…the pyschologist deals exclusively with gays and hate crimes…I know Kurt, he'll act fine but he won't be. I want to make sure we take good care of him after everything he's been through."

Carole smiled, "You're a good father, Burt Hummel."

"That's what I'm told," he joked playfully.

Shaking her head she lay down on the bed with him, arms wrapped around one another and they smiled. "The house is rather empty without you."

"I can't believe he stayed there by himself for two nights…God that kid."

"He's stubborn Burt. He doesn't want to be a problem for anyone."

"I know, I just wish he'd realize the worry he gives me sometimes it the biggest burden."

"Don't tell him that, you'll kill him."

Burt shook his head, "Never. God I love that kid. We had a fight right before…the attack."

"About?"

"Friday night dinners, damn things. So stupid, and I had to get into it with him."

Carole sighed, "Burt they aren't stupid, his mother started them. He's just a teenager he can't see past shopping and friends. And now from the sounds of it he's going to have a boyfriend, he's growing up."

"I know, but…"

"I understand. I don't think either of you are right or wrong, just try and be flexible with one another."

"Such a mother, Angie'd say the same thing."

"It's an instinct picked up."

"What's that, brains?"

"Always being right." She giggled as he rolled his eyes.

o0o

Kurt was sitting up in bed. He was poking his food weakly with his good hand when the doctor stepped into the room, "How's my patient today?"

"Miserable," He replied weakly.

"What's wrong?" She questioned taking his vitals, "Everything looks good. I have to say for someone who was nearly dead two days ago you're making a remarkable recovery."

"Great, when can I go home?" he practically begged.

"It's going to be awhile, Kurt. I'm sorry but you're still mending, those ribs have to heal a little more, we'll take more x-rays of your chest later today.""

"Whatever," he mumbled.

"What's going on Kurt?" she asked, suddenly concerned about her patient. She was used to kids, especially teenagers. But Kurt was different; he only acted daramatic when nothing bothered him. When something was really upsetting him, he clamed up like Fort Knox.

"I'm fine."

She chuckled softly. "I've noticed when it comes to most teenagers the term "fine" really means I'm angry, scared, frustrated or another adjective but fine." The glare he gave her confirmed her suspicions. "Your father is being released today." Kurt's eyes went wide, "I thought that would get your attention, he's doing very well. We don't anticipate any other trouble with his heart for now. They're limiting him to two hour visitions to you daily though."

Kurt didn't like the sound of that, he feared his father would return home and die without someone there. He closed his eyes and turned his head away from her. He heard the doctor sigh. "Kurt, you're going to be here probably another five days for sure, most likely another week depending on your lungs and that's if everything continues to go well. I know you think you're fine, but a lot of damage was done, and I have the feeling judging by your lack of response, not all of it was done in here," She pointed to his lungs. "I want to know when I release you that you're going to be okay."

"I'm fine!" He stated glaring at her. But his eyes shone with tears, belying the pain he was really feeling.

She nodded, "Fine, I'll leave you alone. As always hit the call button if you need something."

When he heard the door close, Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, and rolled on his side, feeling the tears welling up. He was going to be alone a majority of the day…it hurt. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the attack, he could still feel it; the pain of the beating, the fear of death and the pain of a bullet piercing his skin. A small part of him was afraid his father was still upset about Friday night. Tears burned the back of his eyes as they began to drip against the pillow as he remembered every slur, every painful moment.

"Kurt?" A soft voice called through the dark room to him. He shut his eyes against the voice of Carole Hudson; she was the last person he wanted to see. He wanted his father or mother. "Honey, your dad's talking to some people right now, so I thought I'd come check on you."

'Mom would've stayed with him' he couldn't help but think. "Please leave," he whispered, wishing his voice didn't sound so small and lost.

"Kurt, what's wrong?"

He shook his head, his back still to her. She stepped closer and reached out to touch him, which he immediately tried to avoid. She withdrew her hand out of concern, "Are you in pain?"

"No," He lied. He was it was rapidly becoming immeasurable.

"Kurt-"

"Please," He whispered, "Please leave me alone." He felt dirty, maybe everyone was right. Maybe the whole reason all of this had happened was because God hated him for not believing, for being gay. He closed his eyes to that thought, but he honestly didn't want to believe that…but then the vision of the men around him yelling at him…if God did exist he certainly didn't want anything to do with him.

"I can go get the doctor-"

"GO AWAY!" He yelled his face still turned away. He was thankful that she didn't see the tears of pain make trails down his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose.

Carole closed her eyes, suddenly very concerned and made her way back to Burt's room. She knew he wasn't supposed to be stressed but Kurt was his boy, and he had every right to know what the child was going through.

"Burt," she said softly.

Dr. Leland was a pyschologist probably in his thirties, he glanced up as the door opened, and smiled warmly at the woman who'd just answered. Burt, who'd been sitting on the bed essentially interrogating Dr. Leland looked at her. "Carole, I thought you were checking in on Kurt?" Burt replied.

"He's…" she looked at the doctor. "Burt I don't think he's as well as the doctor's think. He threw me out of the room, it's dark and he seems very upset."

"Doc-"

The pyschologist smiled in understanding. "It's not my time to meet him yet. When you think he's ready Mr. Hummel. Perhaps you should go see to your son."

"You're hired," was all Burt said as he stood slowly and made his way out of the room.

Carole went with Burt, making sure he didn't fall. Burt looked into the room, the blinds were drawn and closed, the lights off except for a single one over Kurt's bed. His back was turned to the door and he was completely still. "I'll wait out here," Carole offered quietly.

He nodded, agreeing it'd be a good idea. Stepping inside, he closed the door and reached out to put his hand on his son's shoulder. "I hear you're feeling kinda grumpy."

"Please leave me alone," this time the voice wasn't nearly as sure as Kurt would've liked it. His father always had a way of dealing with him differently than everyone else; he always made the pain go away.

Burt nodded and took a seat in the chair by the bed, looking at Kurt's taut back. Reaching out, in simple instinct he began to gently massage Kurt's lower back, gentle of any of his injuries, making sure to miss those spots. He moved up to Kurt's neck and did the same, with each motion of his hand he felt Kurt's muscles grow lose. "What's going on in that hairspray fogged brain?"

He heard a small laugh that sounded halfway to a sob. "Can I come over and look at you?" Kurt shook his head, closing his eyes against the wave of dizziness that caused. Burt nodded, "Okay…well would you be willing to roll over." The head shake was smaller this time.

"I can't fix it if you don't talk to me kiddo."

Kurt closed his eyes his breath hitching in a sob. He cried sniffling and feeling disgusting. His felt his father rest his hand on his waist. "Please don't touch me," He whimpered.

Burt scooted off the chair and took a seat on the edge of the bed, leaning closer to the boy, "I haven't held you, talked to you or squeezed your shoulder in a fatherly way for over a week kiddo. Suffice to say, I miss that connection. Why can't I touch you, is it because you're in pain?" Kurt slowly met his father's eyes and shook his head. "What's going on, Kurtie?" he knew his son hated that nickname, but it always made his child respond.

"I'm sorry daddy."

"Sorry for what baby?" it worried Burt more than he cared to admit that his son was reverting back to calling him daddy. He hadn't done that since he'd been eight. "What's going on that has you so upset?"

Kurt looked at him, his face was messy, his eyes damp, he looked positively gutted, but he spoke full sentences this time, "I'm sorry dad, I'm sorry about that day…I shouldn't have been so mean…I don't believe in God dad…" He looked at his father.

Burt gently gripped his son, rubbing his arms, "That's okay, Kurt. I don't either."

Kurt shook his head, "I don't believe in God dad, but I believe in you and I believe in us. You and me, that's what's sacred to me," He sobbed softly, "And I'm so sorry I never got to tell you that," He sobbed.

Burt sighed, leaning over he hugged his child the best that he could, holding him as he sobbed. He looked at his son after a few minutes, pressing his forehead to Kurt's, "The relationship you and I have…Kurt," he smiled sadly, his own eyes burning with tears. "You're my buddy, my boy…that little baby I got up for thirteen times in one night to make sure he was still there and okay. I'd do it all over again. I know you're a teenager, and I'm sorry I made you feel so guilty. We're okay Kurt. I promise you. We're okay."

Kurt gave a small hiccup sob, "kay."

Burt smiled and pressed his lips to his son's forehead. "Come on now, no more crying, I think you've done enough crying, don't you?"

Kurt gave a small nod, and Burt smiled as he wiped the tears away. "My sweet boy, don't ever think an argument will ruin what we've got. We're going to be okay, I promise." Burt sat back up and looked at his son. "I'd like to talk to you about something if you feel up to it?"

Kurt glanced around, and then gave a slow nod. Reaching out, Burt gave him a small glass of ice chips. "Noah only gave me the bare details of what occurred to put you here and I can only begin to imagine what you remember. Kurt that's a lot to handle for a boy, it would be a lot to handle for a man my age. I think maybe it would be best if we spoke to someone about what we went through."

"Like…a shrink?"

"A psychologist, I know we've tried in the past after your mother died. But I think it'd be best for both of us, this doctor specializes in hate crimes against gay children."

Kurt's eyes watered, "I don't wanna not be gay."

Burt smiled, "I've talked to him Kurt, he's got a very interesting history, and I wouldn't worry about there being any changing of sexualities. It wouldn't be just for you, I may talk to him a little too, and about ways I can help you overcome this…how to continue to be close to my son. mMybe even how to talk about boys."

Kurt gave a weak smile, "Maybe just…one boy."

"I had a hunch…he's been hanging around a lot."

"We're not dating."

"Not yet…but I think he's going to break you on that."

Kurt gave a sad smile, "Dad, I think I'd be okay with that."

Burt leaned down and kissed his son's head again. "You aren't alone anymore Kurt, you should've have been to begin with. We're here to help."

"You're going home today."

"I'm going to make sure the house is spotless for your anal-retentive tendencies."

"Spic-n-span," He joked.

"I love you."

Kurt nodded, "I missed you dad."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

_**October 15**__**h**__**, 2010**_

__Kurt lay in the hospital bed, the majority of his scrapes and bruises had healed, most of his serious injuries were even beginning to heal. The only remaining obvious injuries were his broken ribs, his knee brace and the cast on his left arm and hand. His father visited everyday, sometimes twice, sneaking in when the doctors weren't there. Kurt appreciated that. He slept a majority of the time, but he didn't like being alone in the hospital.

Kurt jumped slightly when he heard a knock on the door. A man in jeans and a suit coat stepped into the room and gave him a warm smile. "Kurt Hummel?"

Kurt looked at him and gave a very slow nod. "Who are you?" He asked nervously.

"Dr. Spencer Leland, psychologist," he offered, holding out a hand in greeting.

Kurt didn't take it, afraid to touch him. "My dad told me you were coming."

He nodded and pointed to a chair that was a good distance from the bed, "Excellent, no surprises then. May I have a seat?"

"I'm not crazy."

Spencer shook his head, "Who said you were. I didn't say you were. Most people who agree to see me aren't crazy son. It's the ones who refuse that have the issues."

Kurt gave a small smile as the doctor took a seat plenty of distance from him. "So you can call me Spence or Sepncer, this isn't an offical meeting if you don't want it to be."

"Meaning?"

"Well an "offical meeting" would be me sitting here for an hour prompting you with all sorts of annoying questions about your feelings. This is me coming to check on and see how you're feeling, maybe give you a little background on why I'm the right shrink for you." Kurt's slow smile was a hint he was headed in the right direction. "So how are you Kurt? Is that okay, Kurt, do you have any nicknames or anything?"

"It's Kurt. I'm fine I guess."

"That's better than terrible," the doctor joked softly, "How much do you know about me?"

"Dad said you work with gay kids who've….who've been affected by hate crimes…"

"Like you."

"Yeah." Kurt's reply was so painfully soft the doctor realized part of the issue was getting him to label it for what it was.

"I know it hurts, Kurt. But's important to label the violence for what it was, it'll help you accept it, move past it, and ultimately it'll help you identify that it wasn't your fault."

"What if it was?"

"It never is son, believe me. Hate crimes are done because of ignorant hate. Calling it a hate crime will also help when the case gets to court."

Kurt looked nervous suddenly, "You…you think it'll come to that."

He sighed and looked at the ground, "I hate to say it, Kurt, but yes I do. Your father is pressing hefty charges-as he should. There's been a whole lot of media evolving around gay rights these days. The lawyers in charge of this case will take it as high as they can and try for a very lengthy sentence if they can."

"Oh."

"Don't worry Kurt, we'll get you ready for that when the time comes, for now, what do you want to know?"

"About?"

"Anything," he grinned. "Why the grass is green, the sky is blue, what makes me even remotely qualified?"

"That one." Kurt stated.

Spencer smiled warmly, "I thought so. I'm thirty-three years old Kurt, and I'm the victim of a hate crime."

"Can I ask about it?"

"You can ask me anything you'd like Kurt, anytime we're talking. I may not always be able to answer, but you're always welcome to ask. To answer your question, I was about your age, and this of course was around the seventies and eighties and I was kidnapped by several men of larger stature than me. Beaten, abused, and ultimately raped all because I was gay."

"Oh…"

"It's a hard road Kurt; don't feel guilty that you're so upset about your attack when it sounds like mine was worse. It isn't."

"But-"

Spencer cut him off, "No, Kurt. It's not a but. Any sort of physical violence, emotional or mental even is abuse all the same and it's violence and it shouldn't be accepted. Your exeperience is yours alone and it's no one else's right to judge how you choose to handle it. Your father mentioned that you're bullied at school?" Kurt gave a small nod. "How does that make you feel when it happens?"

"Like I'm garabage and shouldn't be alive…" Kurt whispered.

Spencer nodded, "Don't ever let anyone tell you that violence is lesser than someone else's its still violence."

"How did you get past it?"

"I talked to several pyschologists. A majority of which wanted to straighten me out more than they wanted to help. Until I found a really good one who helped me walk through the pain I'd been through. And now I have a house, a good job, I'm functional and have two beautiful children who are completely spoiled rotten."

Kurt gave him a small smile. "I was really scared," Kurt whispered.

"When?" Spencer asked softly.

Kurt closed his eyes, "It was hard because I was being forced to go to church. I didn't want to go with Mercedes-a friend of mine-but I felt like I owed her or something. So I went and these guys just came out of nowhere after the service…they acted like they knew my father and wanted help on a car, but…" He closed his eyes. "I had a bad feeling but I couldn't seem to get away."

"Those are normal feelings, Kurt. I'm glad your instincts were good enough to know that it probably wasn't safe. However, just because you weren't able to put a stop to it, doesn't make it your fault. I want you to consider something for a moment. Do you think that had you known, you would've been able to get away?"

Kurt opened his mouth to respond, but then it snapped shut. Spencer knew that Kurt was realizing he wasn't really at fault. When he saw that Kurt still looked very dejected he paused for a moment, "why don't we talk a little about you, Kurt, if that's okay?"

"I guess."

"How old were you when you realized you were gay?"

Kurt smiled, "Five is when I knew I was different…but really knew what it was called, nine when I kissed another boy."

"Clearly that's a good memory," the man chuckled softly as he took a note in the notebook he'd pulled out. "How old are you?"

"I'm sixteen…seventeen in March and I'm…I'm gay." Spencer nodded and made a couple notes, "I'm pretty recently out about it, though from the sounds of it I was never in it to begin with." Spencer smirked at that. "And I'm an only child or was up until about eight months ago."

"Why is that?"

"I hooked my father up with a friend of mine's mom because I wanted to date him."

"Really, how did he take that?"

Kurt looked down at his hands, "He called me a fag and dad blew up at him."

Spencer nodded, taking another note or two. "We're going to come back to that. How do you feel about the relationship now?" Spencer questioned.

"Honestly?"

"That'd be best," Spencer replied.

Kurt nodded slowly, "Scared, completely scared, jealous…hesitant, sometimes angry."

"Kurt did your mother pass away or did your parents divorce."

"She died when I was eight…well I was six when the car accident occurred and she was in a coma for 15 months, she died right after around my 8th birthday."

"I'm so sorry," Spencer offered gently. "I bet people say that a lot." Kurt nodded, "And you feel silly because it wasn't their fault. Do you know why people say that? Because they feel like something has to be said. Kurt, what do you find easier to accept, a gentle hand squeeze or sad smile, or an apology."

Kurt blanked for a moment, "I never really thought of it…I don't like it when people say they're sorry because most of the time they're not."

Spencer wrote another few things down, "Kurt, I'm going to ask you a serious question-I want you to answer as honestly as you can."

"Okay," he whispered.

"Do you blame yourself for the accident?"

Kurt looked at him surrpised and then nodded very slowly. "I just kept bugging her, and she wasn't paying attention." He stopped and shook his head closing his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"It's okay," Spencer offered gently, reaching out next to the bureru next to him he picked up the tissues and put them in front of Kurt, "These are the kinds of emotions we want to bring out. I'll be honest, Kurt you're going to do a lot of the talking, somedays you'll hate me for asking hard questions."

Kurt looke dlike he hated himself for crying, but Spencer chose to continue all the same, ""So, Kurt, the emotions you mentioned earlier to me, are typical emotions. Most children feel that way either after parents have divorced or one has passed away. I'd like to go through some of those emotions, can we talk about them?"

"I…I guess."

"Let me know if we need to stop, okay?"

"Yeah," Kurt replied gently.

"You said scared first, and I'm noticing it seems to be a theme, between just the way you sit, your arms around your waist, to the way you speak about everything. What's got you scared aside from sitting in a hospital and opening up to a complete stranger?"

Kurt laughed slightly, "I'm scared of…I'm scared that dad will forget I was first, that he'll forget mom, I'm really scared that when I move away we won't be as close. I'm scared of everything."

"Everything being?"

"Walking down the street, getting dressed, sometimes that someone will follow me home and hurt my family, that my dad will die and-" He stopped his eyes opening wide. Spencer was silent, positive he knew the next words.

When Spencer realized Kurt might need some prompting he spoke, "Afraid that your dad will die and what?"

"And that no one will be there to protect me anymore. Make me feel safe."

Spencer nodded, "I think that's why you're upset Kurt-maybe not why you're upset as a whole, but about this situation now, that's where it all starts. Tell me, if you could describe your father in five words, what would they be?"

Kurt gave a small smile and continued, "Overprotective, loving…um proud, open-minded and accepting."

"Why overprotective?"

"I'm sometimes afraid to tell him the bad things that happen at school because he once threatened to take a flame thrower to the school."

Spencer laughed out loud at that, "Goodness, remind me to talk to your father about his anger issues." Growing serious again he smiled, "When did you tell your father you were gay?"

"A year ago."

Spencer smiled warmly, "How did he take it?"

"He said he already knew…he'd always known, and then he told me loved me just the same."

"It sounds like you didn't expect that."

"You've seen my dad, he's not exactly the least intimidating man in the world," Kurt smiled, "I think deep down I knew he'd be okay with it. I was still me…but you hear horror stories about people getting kicked out of their homes…"

Spencer nodded, "You two seem to have the perfect relationship between a father and a son. Which for two so different would be surprising, but I think you still sometimes avoid the important conversations."

"He's not the most…demonstrative person." Kurt whispered.

"I understand that, I do. But I think when it comes to you; he'd surprise you a lot more."

Kurt nodded slowly as Spencer stood up; he moved closer and put his hand out. "Take care of yourself, Kurt. The next time we meet will probably be in my office or at your house, depending on your mobility at that point." Kurt shook his hand.

"Will I be okay?"

Spencer smiled warmly, "I've never met someone who wasn't. Time really does heal a lot of wounds. You get some rest."

"Thanks." Kurt whispered.

Kurt watched Spencer leave, feeling a little more at ease with everything. Taking a shaky breath, he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to claim him. He did his best to keep his mind from going back to that Sunday, but it was still far too fresh.

o0o

When Burt arrived that evening, he was surprised when he found the doctor standing not far from Kurt's hospital room, arguing with a man in a uniform. "We need to see him, it's been too damn long as it is-"

"Mr. Hummel!" Dr. Loyle called over, waving her hand. "Look you can see him when I deem he's healthy enough, and right now I'm not sure he is."

"What's going on?" Burt questioned as he stepped up to pair.

"My name is Officer O'Malley; I'm in charge of your son's case. We've caught all the perps, but we need a statement from your son, and at some point we need him to visually pinpoint his attackers."

Burt looked at the officer, "You do realize my son has only been awake a week and a half since the attack."

"We understand that, and believe me we've already waited too long. The closer to the date we are, the more important. I need a statement from your son. I understand your concern, and I promise to do what I can not to agitate him-"

"Agitate, you want to force him to recall exactly what put him here," the doctor snapped.

Burt held up his hand against Dr. Loyle, "I'm pressing charges, if Kurt doesn't make a statement, then we won't be able to," his words were caught off when a scream echoed from Kurt's room.

Burt turned and was the first in the room despite his heart attack, "He's having a nightmare," He stated as he gently gripped the side of his son's face. "Kurt!" He called.

The doctor came over getting ready to give Kurt a sedative, but Burt held up his hand, "Please, let me talk to him. Kurt, son, it's dad." He called gently. The crying had stopped as soon as Burt had reached his son and phyiscally touched him, but soon eyes fluttered open and he looked up at his father.

"Dad?"

"Hey kiddo sounds like a rough nightmare."

Kurt nodded very slowly. He looked around, seemingly becoming nervous at the other two people in the room. Dr. Loyle looked at the officer, "Why don't we step outside, and we'll talk."

Burt remained in the room looking at his son, "The attack?" Kurt gave a small nod. "Look son, I'm going to assume by now you've talked to Dr. Leland, so you know I'm pressing charges."

"He mentioned it…he also mentioned I may have to testify or something…"

"Son, there's an officer outside, he needs a statement," Kurt instantly tensed, Burt held out a hand. "Hear me out kiddo. First off with that doosey of a nightmare it's fresh in your mind and I don't think it'd hurt you to talk about it. But if you're honestly not up to it, then it can wait and I can tell him to take a hike. Either way you'll have to face this."

Kurt gave a small nod. "I…I can try," he whispered.

Burt looked at his son. "Okay, if you feel overwhelmed or can't talk anymore, let me know okay, you don't have to play hero."

"Thanks dad," Kurt whispered.

Burt headed outside and waved the officer in, a few minutes later he stood at the end of Kurt's bed. "How ya doin' son?" he asked gently.

"Been better," Kurt offered quietly.

"I'm here cause you're father has made the decision to press charges against the…jerks who hurt you. Kurt, I want you to understand that we're here to help you and work this case for you, okay. The first thing and most important thing we'll need is the statement of what exactly happened."

"What…what happens if they plead not guilty or something-"

"One of them was caught bragging about it, that's why he's caught. We've offered him a shorter sentence already if he squealed on the others. He's clamed up now, but if your statement matches what he was bragging about and he hears that, I think it's a safe bet he'll talk."

"Okay," Kurt offered, "Where do I start?" He said trying to act and look braver than he felt.

"At the beginning."

Kurt nodded; he began to explain indepth where he'd gone to church, what time and why. He went over how the service went and explained that he'd been seperated from Mercedes when she'd stopped to talk with some people. He told the officer how he'd been cornered by four or five guys and he'd orginally been nervous but it seemed like they'd had car trouble, despite his better thoughts, he'd followed them. He then went into graphic detail about how and what hit him.

Burt turned sheet white the further his son went, and he realized just how close it had been. His son should've died there. Kurt explained that he'd just barely been able to text his best friend Noah, but that he assumed he was dead.

"You've done well son. I do have to ask you a couple more questions, is that okay?" Kurt nodded, so Officer O'Malley continued, "Did they rape you, Kurt?"

Kurt closed his eyes, he remembered his clothes being ripped off, and he recalled the bruises. "I…I don't think they actually…" he was rapidly losing control as the tears began to fall. "I don't think so."

"That matches what the doctor's tested for, I just wanted to check. You're done kid." The officer offered gently once they were all finished. "We've spoken with Noah Puckerman as well as most of the congregation."

"I'm not sure that's comforting," Kurt replied softly. "But I guess by now I'm number one on the list of most popular googles in Lima."

The officer smiled, "Keep it up kid, that's what will get you through this. Thank you gentleman. Kurt get well soon, we'll contact if you need further information."

"Dad…" Kurt whispered once the officer had left.

"Yeah buddy?"

"Will you stay with me and…and help me to fall asleep?"

"Sure thing kiddo."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

_**October 17**__**th**__**, 2010**_

__"Mr. Hummel," a gentle voice startled Burt from his sleep the next morning. He and Kurt had played chess for nearly an hour after finding one in the waiting room. Burt had remained by his side, holding his hand and singing softly to him while he son slept. "I don't believe you're still supposed to be here," The nurse said smiling.

"Hmm, yeah well, I'd be here by now anyway," He stated rubbing his hand over his face. "What time is it?"

"Ten, I actually came in to inform you the doctor is on her way and if everything looks good, Kurt will be going home today."

"Well that's good news," Burt stated as he looked at his son. "Will there be any complications."

"The doctor will tell you if there would be."

"Thanks," He offered, he leaned forward, looking at his son sleeping, almost looking peaceful and he smiled. He'd forgotten how young his son looked; somedays twelve wasn't even the right age.

There was a soft knock on the door and Burt turned, grimacing at the pain in his chest, he smiled weakly at the doctor. "Hey doc."

"You shouldn't be here Mr. Hummel, you're only just recoving from a serious arrythimia-"

He waved her off, "He's my kid. Besides I'm safer here than anywhere else."

The doctor couldn't truly argue with that, but his stress level alone was her primary concern. "Burt, you have to keep yourself as relaxed as possible until your stress test."

"He is my stress test," Burt offered quietly smiling weakly. Kurt was his biggest stressor but worth the most effort.

She smiled and began to look at some of Kurt's injuries, "He's healing nicely. He'll be able to walk with a knee brace for about six weeks and then he can get rid of that. His arm should be healed by then too."

"He's going to be okay?"

"Physically I have no doubt. I don't think he'll even have any scars honestly."

Burt smiled, "He'll be thankful for that."

"It's going to be a long road for both of you, though. You're going to be on medication the rest of your life, and we have to make sure for the next several months that you don't become overly stressed. And Kurt…he's going to have to face this attack, my other concern are his lungs. He has shown some sign of a little damage already."

"Meaning?"

"His lungs probably won't have the same capacity as they did before this happened. I'm not saying he won't sing and dance, but it's going to be a long time before he doesn't get winded regularly."

Burt shook his head. "I don't understand why anyone would want to hurt a child."

"There are sick people in this world, Mr. Hummel." She looked at Kurt's chart. "He's still has a low fever of about 99, we've checked it multiple times during the night, is he usually a little higher than most?"

"Not usually, he's either lower or about the same."

"Well, all signs of the infection are gone, it could just be because he's covered up and he's been sleeping a lot. It's your call, I'd like to release him today, and that's not a high enough temperature to keep him here if you're okay with that decision."

"I think Kurt would like to go home."

She nodded. "Consider it done, I'll sign the paperwork, you get yourself a ride and I expect to see you both out of my hair by lunch."

He smiled, "Doc?"

"Yeah?"

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long will I live with the damage done to my heart?"

"You could live another forty or fifty years, Burt, don't count yourself out yet."

He smiled weakly. "It's just kind of scary, you know?" He shook his head, "I'm being dumb," he offered.

Dr. Loyle shook her head, "No you aren't, Burt. What you're feeling is normal, and I'd like you to watch those feelings closely. In the next several weeks as you start to realize you can't do as much as you'd like you could start to feel depressed, don't let that fester."

Burt looked at her, and gave a very small nod, "I'll do my best."

"That's all we ask, you two take care of one another."

Burt gave a small nod, before he stood up and made his way out of the hospital room. He quickly dialed Carole's number and waited, "Hey, Kurt's being released…any chance you can come get us and take us home? Thanks Carole, love you too."

Kurt woke up about an hour later, blinking his eyes he looked at his father, took in the slightly sunken in tired eyes, and the paleness. "You should be at home," he whispered.

"We're on our way, kiddo. Although, I think it's very likely you won't be sleeping in your own bed for awhile."

"That's okay. I'll sleep upstairs in my old bed or in yours," he offered.

"All right. The doctor is signing you out now, how do you feel?"

Kurt looked at him and forced a smile, "Fine," Kurt replied.

Burt nodded, "I figured you'd say something like that. It's okay to not be okay, Kurt. I know I sure as hell don't feel fine."

Kurt looked at his father for a long moment, as if considering what he was saying, he closed his eyes, "I…" He wasn't used to opening up. He was used to disappearing into the back while people noticed everyone around him. He liked it that way, then he'd joined Glee, and while he wanted to be a star he did have things that were far more important to him than that.

"Kurt, you've always been able to talk to me, if you need to explode, just explode kiddo. But you can't bottle this all up inside you, it'll tear you apart."

"I'd like to continue seeing Dr. Leland," Kurt murmured, maybe the only person he could open up to was Spencer, but he did want to tell his dad about everything. Burt looked at him for a long moment and nodded.

"I'll call him when we get home, set up an appointment for you." Burt reached out; gripping his son's good arm, "In the meanwhile, if you need to talk, don't hesitate just because you suddenly view me as fragile, okay."

Kurt closed his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Quit apologizing, I want you to remember who the father is here. I get that you're probably going to be taking care of me for a little while, making sure I eat right and stuff…but I'm still the father, and I don't want you to think I can't do that job anymore."

_**October 19**__**th**__**, 2010.**_

The remaineder of the day had gone smoothly; they'd both slept the majority of the day, Burt getting comfortable on the couch, and Kurt sleeping in his father's room. Carole had remained with them a majority of the afternoon, watching over them, making sure they both ate at least a little something.

Burt had done as promised and set up a meeting with Kurt-because of his lack of mobility with the knee brace, Spencer was coming to the house. Kurt had done the best he could in showering and shaving prior to Spencer's arrival, and he looked semi presentable when he answered the door.

"Hey Kurt, how ya feelin?"

Kurt smiled slightly, "Okay…do you mind if we talk out here, dad's sleeping."

"We can talk where you're comfortable."

"Did you want something to drink?" Kurt asked as he brought an afgan out to wrap up in.

"A cup of coffee, and bring yourself something."

Five minutes later Kurt and Spencer were seated on the porch swing, sitting there quietly. Spencer didn't press him, which Kurt really appreciated; he let Kurt prepare himself for whatever they'd tackle for the day. "How long does it last?"

"How long does what last?"

"All of this? The anger I feel, the pain, the fear…the…" He closed his eyes, "The uncontrollable need to put space between myself and everyone else so I can protect myself?"

"Everyone's different, Kurt. I know it's not the answer you want to hear, but it's the right one." He turned slightly to face the teen. Kurt was still sitting, staring out at the street. "But I would like to help you work through that feeling, if you'll let me. Why are you feeling this way today?"

"It's not really just today. It's been since I woke up. I…" Kurt closed his eyes, "I feel like I'm suddenly a huge burden."

"Kurt?"

Kurt took a shaky breath, "I was...I considered killing myself if dad didn't make it." He hadn't wanted to admit it, but he had to say it. "Wrote a letter and everything the minute I got the phone call I'd kill myself."

"Why?"

"I can't do this without him."

"Kurt, son, you would've survived."

Kurt gave a painfully sarcastic laugh. "Survived and living are two different things. I have no one else. Trust me, I would've been dead inside."

"Why are you telling me this now?"

Kurt looked out at the street, "I'm not sucidial anymore at least I don't think I am. Can't say it hasn't ever occurred to me, but I'm so tired of feeling this lost."

"How so?" Spencer was concerned. He knew Kurt was a good kid, and between the immediate need to see him and this conversation, he was a littled worried for Kurt's sanity and life.

"I'm tired of being the only person who's gay in this town and in my school. I'm tired of the abuse and the bullying, I'm tired of watching my father struggle with it like that's his job," Kurt closed his eyes. "I don't want to die. But I can understand why so many kids do." He whispered as he wiped at his cheeks. "But I can't do that, because now someone has to take care of dad, and the garage and I have school."

Spencer reached out, touching Kurt's arm. "Kurt, I need you to slow down for a moment okay, what you're saying it is normal, but it concerns me. When you start talking suicide, I do have to worry."

"Please don't tell my dad."

"You know I can't do that."

Kurt buried his face in his hand, "He can't stress out otherwise he'll have another heart attack."

Spencer sighed slowly, "I have to tell your father, but I can soften the blow if you're willing to make a deal with me."

"Okay," Kurt said lower lip wobbling as he realized he was probably in big trouble now.

"How much have you thought about this?" Kurt closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, he was slightly relieved when Spencer began to rub his back slightly, "Take your time, son, you're safe okay."

"I thought about it right after I woke up but not in depth."

"Okay, so you don't have any plans or anything."

"Not anymore," He whispered, "I don't want to die…but sometimes I'm so overwhelmed."

"All right, we can deal with that. Yes, despite doctor patient confidentiality, I do have to mention this to your father, but I'll let him know that in my honest opinion you are not in immediate danger of doing anything. Here's the deal, you meet with me three times a week, either here or in my office, and if you do get to the point where you feel like you have no other choice, you'll call me immediately."

"Okay," He whispered.

"Good boy," Spencer offered quietly. They sat in silence for several more minutes. "Kurt, this isn't the end of your world; I know it feels like it right now, but it's not. There's still a lot out there for you. Don't let a beautiful flame get put out because people are jerks."

"I know. It's like they're trying to break me…they don't like any of us Gleeks…but me especially."

"Kurt, have you ever reported them."

"What good would that do?"

"More than you think, actually. The government legistlatures are changing daily, thirteen kids have killed themselves recently because of bullying, if you feel in danger, even a little of doing the same thing, then it's their fault and they should be punished by law for that. Not to mention, Kurt they are physically causing you harm-that's a crimel" leaning over he looked at the teen, trying to capture his eyes. "Kurt, I promise you, it does get better son. You just have to hold out a little longer."

"I'm trying," he whispered, tears coursing down his cheeks.

"I know."

They sat there in silence for a long time, Kurt looked at him, "When I think about everything it all feels like I'm being suffocated, how do I manage that?"

"One thing at a time."

"Too easy," Kurt smiled sadly.

Spencer laughed out loud, "Oh yes." He chuckled softly for a few more minutes before he looked at Kurt, "How can we make it more managable?"

"I don't know. I feel like if I did I wouldn't feel this bad."

"You probably would…I think the extreme situations have just made it all that much worse, but you'd still feel overwhelmed."

"What do you suggest?"

"Talking about it is going to do you wonders. You may not think so now, and you're going to cry, and yell and god knows you're gonna be angry. That's okay; you have to get through those stages to heal. But, there are other ways. Your dad can't return to the garage immediately, and your torn between helping him and helping there, what if you trained a couple of your friends this weekend so they could help out in the garage, and then you brought the paperwork home, so you and your father did that in your down time?"

"That could work…I guess."

"I'll talk to his doctor and see if that's possible, that way maybe he doesn't feel as trapped either. As for school, I think it would be best for you to try and go out with your friends at least once a week, it doesn't have to be for long periods of time, but you'll achieve two things that way-first off you'll realize they are sorry and you'll be able to come to terms with all of this. And second off, I think it will help you realize that you aren't as alone as you feel."

"What about dad?"

"As for your father, I think for you to take all the responsibility is unneccessary. You're barely seventeen, you can look after him, but you have things you have to do too. Now Carole is dating him, and if she loves him, it might not hurt to reach out to her and create a schedule that the two of you could work out to make sure both of you are taken care of. In addition, while you're trying to force feed him healthier stuff, I have it on the highest authority that you need to eat a little less healthy and put on a couple pounds."

"But-"

"Find a way Hummel," Spencer joked softly. "You've lost a lot of weight, whether you think so or not is irrelevent. It's important that you put some of that weight back on."

"Okay."

"The main thing I want you to focus on is how you can become calm when you feel overwhelmed. What can you do for yourself that will help with that for awhile?"

"I'm not really sure."

"What do you do know when you get overwhelmed?"

"I sing…sometimes I take hot showers and sometimes I cook."

"All right, so go with those three things, if you feel super overwhelmed and you need to get away immediately and you can, tell whoever that you need to take a break, walk away and take a shower-recognize that it's okay to feel that…since in the shower if you have to." Spencer offered. "But you take time for you."

"Okay." Kurt paused for a little while again, "I talked to an officer and gave my statement."

"How'd that go?"

"Terrible, I relived it…I hate how helpless I feel and felt. The officer said at some point this week I'll probably have to go to the station and pick the guys out of a line up."

"I think you'll be surprised at the peace you'll get from knowing these men are in jail."

"Would you come with me?"

"To the station?" Spencer was surprised by this.

Kurt sighed, "My dad is a hot head sometimes, and I'm worried if he goes…he'll get too upset. I need someone who can stand by me nad help me do this rationally without having a mental meltdown."

"Can't exactly turn that down. Of course I'll go, you tell me when and where and I'll be there."

"Thank you."

Spencer nodded. "Anything else you want to talk about?"

"I have to go back to school on Monday."

"All right, how does that make you feel?"

"Terrified enough that I almost pee myself," Kurt laughed slightly at his joke. Spencer smiled, "I'm afraid that I'll be attacked again, and this time I won't come home-which would kill my dad. I'm afraid to face the rest of my Glee members after…everything."

"Can I ask why?"

"What if they still try to push God, what happens if they say…say this was God's punishmen-"

Spencer felt his heart sink at that moment, "Kurt, God doesn't create this kind of pain, and you said you don't believe in him-stick to that. Don't decide he only exsist to torture you. That's only going to cause you more heartach."

"What if God does hate me?" Kurt whimpered.

"God doesn't hate you, those who follow him and have narrowminds have chosen the path's they did. Don't ever believe for a second that he hates you. God doesn't make mistakes. Whatever you have to do to convince yourself of that, you just keep on doing it."

Kurt gave a small nod. "I'm such a mess, how am I supposed to do this?"

"One day at a time, my friend. One day at a time. Go to school Monday, with your head held high, dressed no different than normal. You show these people that you won't be beaten. That's how you defeat bullies. If your friends offer any kind of protection, take it they only want to help. I'm willing to bet they'll surprise you by how supportative they are."

"I don't want pity though."

"Then tell them that, you be Kurt Hummel. Whoever that is, show them how strong you are."

"I'm not sure I know who Kurt Hummel is anymore."

"Then you may want to find him again. Tell you what, we'll end the session for today, I think you're still tired. I'm going to go talk to your father, make sure he's doing all right as well."

"Okay, I'm going downstairs to get a few things."

"Call if you need help," Spencer offered as they entered the house. He watched the boy hobble down the stairs, and then he looked at the couch, where Burt Hummel was now sitting up, looking exhausted, and a little worried.

"How's he doin' doc?"

Spencer smiled as he took a seat in a chair by the couch. "He's struggling. More so than he lets on. I actually was hoping to talk to you about him for a moment, and check in to make sure you're doing all right."

"I'd be doing better if I was allowed to move." Burt stated simply.

"I can understand that. And we may have a little solution to help you pass the time without losing your mind."

"Okay, so what's concerned you about my kid?"

"Has he ever…mentioned…being suicidal to you?"

Burt's eyes went wide, and suddenly they began to water, "Is…has…" He closed his eyes. "No," He whispered.

Spencer nodded, "I didn't think so. Let me begin with this, he made it pretty clear to me that he doesn't _want_ to die, but that it's something that has crossed his mind more so lately than ever. As his psychologist, while I am stuck to patient doctor confidentiality, I do have to tell you that part, out of concern for his well being."

"My kid wants to off himself," Burt whispered, his eyes burning with tears.

"No, I don't think he does, I think it's crossed his mind. That said, he and I have discussed ways to get around those emotions so he doesn't feel that way. First and foremost he's going to see me three times a week, until he or I decide to slow down a little. Second, he's going to talk to you more, be more open about how he feels and he's going to share some of the burden's he feeling right now. Lastly, he's going to call me if he ever feels that low and I'll immediately come over here-no matter what I'm in the middle of."

Burt took a slow breath, "I'm attempting not to panic-"

"And that's why I'm telling you now having already talked about this with your son. It's serious, Burt. But it's not unheard of. Lots of people consider suicide and turn out to be fine. Kurt is going to be that kid, but I want to get him through this impossible difficult time."

"What can I do?"

"Listen. You may need him to care for you a little right now, but I can't emphasize how serious it is to make sure you hear him out. I have no doubt you do that already, but more than ever, hear your son out. Also, I'm going to talk to your doctor about the possibility of paperwork being brought home from the garage that you two can split, if and when you're up to it, I'd encourage you to do it, might help bring you out of the funk you're likely feeling. Lastly, Carole needs to help if she's really going to consider being your wife one day."

"She has a life of her own-"

"I understand that, and if she wants to keep it her life vs. your life, then let your son handle everything and kill himself. But let me make this clear, that woman says she loves you, and then she needs to help. She doesn't have to do everything, but she can certainly come over once or twice a week and cook dinner while Kurt does his homework so he doesn't flunk."

"I'll talk to her."

"Good."

"You think my son…could kill himself?"

Spencer sighed, "Burt, I've seen kids twice as strong as your son hanging off the end of the rope because of bastards like the ones at his school. Kurt is a damn good kid, and he wants to live, mostly to take care of you. But it is imparative that he gets through these next few months feeling like he has people he can rely on too."

"All right."

The doctor nodded, "Right then, I'm going to get some lunch and head out, you two take care, I'll call tomorrow to set up the next appointment with Kurt. Meanwhile, take care of each other."

"Thanks doc."

Spencer nodded and stood up, making his way out the door. Leaving Burt on the couch, eyes closed and breathing deeply. His child was possibly suicidal, it was a horrific concept that Burt had dreamt of far too many times. He wanted to live now, but how long would that last. How much did Kurt have to suffer through before he decided it wasn't worth it anymore?

"Dad?" A soft voice, speak of the devil, brought him from his thoughts.

Burt smiled at his son, "Hey kiddo, come here," He whispered. The two sat on the couch together.

"Spencer told you didn't he?"

"He has to kid."

"I know…I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment."

Burt closed his eyes and pressed his lips to his son's temple. "Don't ever think you are a disappointment to me, son. You are anything but. I'm so proud of the boy you've become and how much you've survived. You just keep being my beautiful Kurt, okay?"

Kurt nodded and leaned his head against his father's shoulder. "I love you dad."

"I love you too buddy." He leaned his own head against Kurt's and sighed, for now, he'd be content that his son wanted to live for him, because maybe it gave Kurt one thing to focus on.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Burt sat on the couch, looking at Carole who seemed to be absorbing the information he'd shared with her. "You think he's suicidal?"

"I don't know," Burt offered quietly, "I think he's upset and he's not talking to anyone…but the therapist made a deal that as long as he talked to me, shared duties with you and called him in an emergency that Kurt would be all right."

"Burt, sweetheart, of course I'm going to help, if you hadn't asked I would've offered. This is a lot for a boy to take on; I'd be worried about Finn too in this case. I'll come over here on Tuesdays and Thursdays and I can check in on you on the weekends."

"I think I can agree to that."

"Try not to worry about him too much, Burt, he's growing up and he does have a lot on his plate."

"I know, I just wish he'd tell me more about it," Burt offered as she scooted down and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"I talked to Finn the other day…you may not like this, but you should probably know."

"Oh boy." Burt offered smiling.

"He said Kurt was making advances on him last year and that's why he exploded. Finn seemed pretty embarrased about the whole thing, but it sounds like the entire reason Kurt set us up, why he wanted to room with Finn was to…to make him gay."

Burt closed his eyes and sighed.

"Honey?" Carole asked a little worried.

"Sorry, just wondering how I fucked up so bad."

"Burt, you didn't!" Carole corrected, "Don't you dare think that, he's a teenager and he's struggling to define himself, he was in the wrong-there's no doubt, but Finn is past it now, and I think he really does love Kurt like a little brother. As for Kurt, talk to him, I think once he realizes we all know and that we're ready to move on past it…he'll get there too."

"Do you think we're fixable?"

She looked at him, "I don't think we were ever really broken Burt, none of us."

"Thank you," Burt whispered pressing a kiss to Carole's forehead. "For everything."

She smiled and rubbed his stomach gently. "Happy to help."

"Dad I-" Kurt stopped as he realized Carole was in the room, he looked at her and suddenly felt his face burn with shame. "Sorry," He whispered as he quickly limped out of the room, not quite willing to be seen yet.

Carole looked over at her boyfriend, "What was that?"

"I think he's upset that he blew up at you-plus he hasn't really had time to adjust to multiple people yet. I'm not actually sure how he'll manage at school on Monday."

"Why don't I head out, call if you need anything. I'll ask Finn to stop by and pick Kurt up Monday."

"Thanks."

_**October 11**__**th**__**, 2010**_

__Kurt was sitting quietly on the couch, staring at the wall when Finn entered the house, "Kurt-dude we're gonna be late." He looked at Kurt, Burt wasn't anywhere to be seen, Finn assumed he was in the bathroom. "Kurt, you all right?" His mother had warned him that Kurt wasn't handling touch very well yet, so he knelt in front of his soon to be brother.

"I…I don't think I can do this," Kurt whispered, his face was white and he looked completely panicked.

Finn looked at him for a long moment, "I'll be there, and anytime you need me…just call me or text me and I'll make an excuse and meet you somewhere, okay? And I'm willing to bet Noah would be glad to do the same thing. You aren't alone Kurt." He reached out, hand hovering over Kurt's knee. When the boy didn't appear like he'd jump away he placed it there. "Come on, Kurt; let us watch out for you?"

Kurt gave a very slow nod, standing he grabbed his bag and followed Finn out the door. Burt smiled as he stepped out of the kitche, good to know those were two doing better than they'd been doing last year. The summer had fixed a majority of their issues, Finn had learned a lot about the garage, and was getting a little brighter.

Finn and Kurt arrived at the school almost fifteen minutes later, Kurt was still pale, gripping the side of the door. Finn stopped his truck and looked at Kurt. "I can turn around."

Kurt shook his head, "I…I have to do this."

"You do, but it doesn't have to be today if you really aren't ready."

"I'm ready," He whispered. "Just…don't leave me."

Finn smiled, "Not going anywhere, I've got first and third period with you, Noah will be with you second, fourth and lunch, and Matt and Artie have the last periods with you. We'll make sure you get everywhere safe and sound. And again, you can text us."

"Finn…" He stopped and then shook his head, "Nevermind man."

"Only if you're sure."

"I…" Kurt sighed, "I wanted to apologize…for being sucha creeper last year. I honestly…I don't always know how to handle…" He closed his eyes, "Nevermind."

"I get it man, and its okay. We're cool."

Kurt looked over at him, "Really?"

"Yeah, we're good, you've kinda become my brother, and…look I know you think you can protect yourself, and I'm all about that, but don't hesitate to ask for help if you need anything at all, cause I wouldn't if I needed girl advice."

Kurt smiled. "Thank you."

"Any time dude."

"What is it with you guys and the name dude-"

As if on cue, as soon as Kurt closed the car door, Noah came up and grinned, "Hey dude."

"Seriously!" Kurt just shook his head, causing the two to grin.

Noah was one of the few people that Kurt didn't mind touching him, so when the Puckster came back up and put an arm around his shoulders he gave himself a moment to calm, and then smiled at the familiar smell that was Noah Puckerman.

"How ya doin' Hummel."

"Fine," Kurt offered gently.

Noah smiled at him warmly, "You look better, feeling confident."

"No," Kurt whispered, he was surprised when Noah drew him a little closer.

"You're with the Puckster now, I'll protect you."

If anyone asked, Kurt would deny the comfort that made him feel as he was flanked by two of his friends…friends. He wasn't really sure prior to this year he'd had friends. Maybe he would be able to make it through this.

"We've let the girls you're pretty much off limits for hugging unless you iniate, and they all seem to have accepted that-that said don't be surprised if Brit doesn't remember," Finn offered.

"Thanks," He replied softly.

"Hey Kurt!" Artie greeted as he wheeled away from his dad's van, his father waved to Kurt out the window, Kurt smiled and waved back before looking at Artie. "How are you?" He asked.

"Getting better," Kurt replied, and it was true, he didn't feel like a complete outcast, and that was comforting. Even as they walked into the halls and Kurt began to gravitate closer to Noah, he was comforted when he felt the arms around his shoulder's tighten.

"You're safe dude, Karofsky is with Azmio waiting for you by the dumpster, Finn and I decided to come at a different angle, they won't touch you today."

Kurt looked at him, "Thanks," He whispered. "I feel like I'm saying that all the time suddenly."

Noah smiled warmly at him, "Happy to help Princess, you have my cell, if you need it, the code is Silver for panicking, Gold for could use a hug, and green for good but not great."

"Do I want to know how you decided those colors?"

"You're always bright and different, we figured you'd want your codes to be the same thing. If it's the first three periods, we'll meet in the west bathroom, if it's the middle two the cafeteria or outside bleachers if you need space, and if it's later in the afternoon the choir room-Mr. Schuester has also offered his office any time you think you need to lie down."

"How long have you guys been plotting this?" Kurt asked suddenly worried as he looked at Finn.

"Long enough, we've missed you; Glee isn't the same without our other Diva."

Kurt made it through the first four periods without so much as a stutter, he didn't feel panic once, mostly because he hadn't run into the jocks. Artie or one of the girls was constantly with him, Mercedes was the only one he hadn't seen yet, but he'd see her after lunch. All of the teachers had greeted him warmly, telling him his homework had been well done, or needed a little work, and they'd all given him encouraging words about his father as well.

It was sixth period and he had it with Matt, Artie, Tina, Mercedes and Rachael as he stepped into the room, he grimaced slightly at the sight of his bullies. They didn't seem to notice him, he was about to move to the back, when Schuester gently touched his arm. "Hey," He offered quietly.

Kurt looked at him, he hadn't been expecting the hand, so that put him slightly on edge, but he turned, composing himself to Mr. Schuester and gave the man as warm a smile he could muster. "Hi Mr. Schue."

"How you doin' today?"

"Better than expected…I keep waiting for the panic attack. Thanks Mr. Schue."

"Let me know if we can do anything, and nicely done on all the homework. Also, are you going to be at Glee tomorrow?"

Kurt smiled, he hadn't thought about it, but Carole was caring for dad tomorrow night and he had a therapy session tonight and Wednesday. "Yes, I will be."

"Great, we can't wait."

"Thank you Mr. Schue," He offered before he finally headed to his seat, he smiled when he realized his friends had essentially created a wall around him. He wondered how long they'd have to do this before it drove him crazy. "Hey boy," Mercedes said, reaching out.

Kurt looked at her and gave her a hesitant smile, before gripping her hand. "Hi," He whispered. He hadn't been expecting the wave of sadness that hit him as he gripped her hand, not because he was upset at her, or blamed her, but he was just a little sad to think she probably blamed herself. "Can we talk after class?" He asked her lightly, wanting to talk with his girl.

"Sure," she replied smiling and squeezing his hand.

They made it through the whole class, Kurt kept fairly quiet for the majority of the class, as the rest of the group headed out of the classroom at the end, he grabbed his stuff, grumbling when he dropped his notebook under his desk. He bent over to pick it up and started to head for the door when he noticed Karofsky standing in his way. "Hey freak!" He grinned like an idiot.

Kurt felt the panic start in the pit of his stomach lot a terrified knot. He looked up, set his expression and took a deep breath. "Please move," He stated trying to seem braver than he felt.

"And what if I don't, all your freaky little buddies are gone, even your freaky little teacher," He stepped forward, fracking his knuckles in a neandthral way. Kurt backed up into a chair, the panic was beginning to send shockwaves of pain to his limbs as every muscle tensed, sore and not sore. He felt his heart beat speeding up, his palms began to sweat and it felt like the world was beginning to close in on him.

"What's wrong freak, feeling scared," He stepped closer, grinning from ear to ear.

As his heart sped up, he felt his breathing become erratic, it ached as he wrapped his arms around his lungs, trembling and feeling his eyes burning with tears, he couldn't see a way out. "Don't-"

Kurt didn't see what happened next, but as quick and Karofsky was there, he was gone. "Let's go you sick bastard!" A harsh voice yelled, Puckerman hauled the teen away from Kurt and punched him in the nose.

A moment later half the school seemed to be looking in through the doors as Noah Puckerman took on Karofsky blow for blow. Will Schuester and Principal Figgins hurried into the room, pulling the boys apart. They were so busy they barely noticed Kurt crouched in the corner trembling.

"Kurt?" Finn asked softly as he stepped over to the boy, "Kurt I need you to take a slow deep breath for me okay?" He asked gently, he reached out and carefully rubbed Kurt's knees.

Kurt looked up at him struggling to pull air into his lungs, tears had started to flow down his face as he shook, "I-"

"Shh, don't talk, I'll call mom to come get you, okay?" He asked, "She's working the night shift, she should be available." He whispered. Pulling out his cell phone he hit two and send and waited, "Mom…I'm okay but I think Kurt's having a panic attack," he explained quietly so not to embarras the boy. "Thanks mom." Hanging up he slid it into his pocket, "Think you can stand?"

He shook for a couple moments and then shook his head, every fiber of his body still shaking. He closed his eyes, struggling desperately to pull air into his lungs. He was beginning to feel light headed, "I don't feel good," He whimpered quietly.

"Okay, let's try and get you to the nurse, mom will meet us in the office."

With a very shaky nod, he held his hand out for Finn to help him out. Finn pulled him as close as he could, wrapping an arm around his waist and walking him out of the classroom. Kurt was shaking all over, and from what Finn could tell his heart was racing as well.

They stepped into the office, and Finn helped him into the nurse's office, "Oh dear, Kurt, are you all right?"

He gave her a very shaky nod, as his heart began to slow he still felt sick to his stomach and dizzy, "Headache," he whispered.

"I think he had a panick attack."

She nodded, "The symptoms match, who's coming to get him?"

"My mom."

"All right, why don't you go wait for her, I'll write you a pass to your next period." She sat down beside Kurt with a damp cloth and gently began to dab at his brow, "Take slow breaths for me sweetie, in and out," She continued the mantra as she rubbed his skinny back. "Does this have to do with Noah coming in here with a cut eyebrow and a split lip?"

"Prolly," He chocked as he closed his eyes against the wave of dizziness.

Just then there was a light knock on her door, "Speak of the devil," she said looking at Noah Puckerman who was standing in the doorway. Noah gave her a half ass smile as he moved to the cot and sat down, "I'm being suspended for two weeks," He offered weakly, I don't care though-was so worth it." He joked.

Kurt gave him a small shudder, Noah leaned over and rubbed his back, taking the nurse's place. "You doing a little better?"

Kurt gave a small nod, he was pale and still shaking, "I feel sick," He whispered.

"Yeah, mom says that's normal, she used to have them when she was a kid-says they completely wipe you out. I should probably go-" He began to get up, but Kurt grabbed his hand.

"Stay…" He whispered, "Till Carole gets here?"

"Sure."

They sat in silence, Noah holding Kurt's hand and rubbing his back while Kurt tried to desperately control his breathing and his heart. Carole walked into the room almost fifteen minutes later and smiled as Kurt lay there, he had a little color in his cheeks, but still looked sick. "Hey kiddo, ready to go home?"

He glanced up and looked at Carole, he gave her a slow nod. Noah smiled and helped him scoot off the cot and stand, his legs were still shaky but once Noah was sure he could hold his own he gave him a small pat on the back. "I'll call you okay?" Noah asked gently.

"Okay," Kurt replied softly.

Noah couldn't stop himself, he pressed his lips to Kurt's and pulled away, "You know where to find me." Without another word he headed back into the principal's office.

Carole gave him a small smile as she held out her hand. Kurt looked at it for a moment, before his face began to crumble. With a small 'tut' sound, she pulled him close as he clung to her. "It's okay Kurt, you're doing the best you can," she whispered rubbing his back.

Once he'd regained composure a few minutes later, he followed her out to her minivan on the road and got in. "Sorry," He whispered.

"Don't be sweetie, you're fine."

He looked at her for a long time, before speaking again, "No really…I'm sorry for everything, for hookin' you up with my dad with some ulterior motives, for lying to all of you, for getting Finn kicked out and hurting you and my father…for hurting you, for hurting dad…I'm sorry I was so upset-"

Carole could see he was working himself into a small frenzy, reaching out she gripped his hand, "Kurt Hummel, you listen to me," She offered pulling the car of to the side of the road and looking at him. "You've made some mistakes, we all have. Do you want us to be a family?" He gave a small nod, "Then we have to move past these transgressions. Sweetie, you're a teenager who barely understands yourself, let alone everyone else. Finn was upset at first, but he's over it now, he loves you like a brother and certainly like a friend. We're all going to be okay. You don't have to keep holding onto this guilt anymore."

He looked at her, "I don't know if I can stop."

"That's why we're here, Kurt, so that when you start feeling that way, we can all talk it out."

He nodded slowly and watched as she pulled back onto the road. He took a shaky breath, "Can…can you help me understand what it's like to have a mom again?"

She smiled warmly at him, "Kurt, I would love nothing more than to try and help you understand what a mom does."

"You feeling any better?" She asked lightly as she pulled into the driveway.

"I don't know," He replied honestly, he felt tired and exhausted, he still felt shaky. "Guess I didn't do so good for my first day," He whispered.

Carole looked at him, "Cut yourself a break, kiddo, you've had a rough trip lately. You made it through more than half the day without any trouble, you should be proud."

"I want to go to Glee tomorrow."

"I think that'll be great for you, come on then, let's check on your dad."

Kurt nodded as they got out of the car. They made their way into the house, Burt who'd been seated on the couch, glanced up at the door opened. "Kurt, you all right?"

The teen looked at his father, and suddenly felt his heart beginning to pound again, he hurried up the stairs as best he could for a shower, hoping desperately it would help calm him down. "Kurt, if you need-"

"Fine!" He cried down as he closed the bathroom door and sank down to the floor. Tears started and suddenly Kurt found himself unable to stop as he just cried.

"What happened?" Burt questioned Carole as she sat down beside Burt.

Carole sighed, "From the little Finn told me, he was cornered in the Spanish classroom, Noah intercepted Karofsky before he could do any damage, but not before Kurt didn't start having a pretty bad panic attack.

"How is he now?"

"Shaky…I think he feels embarrased, like he shouldn't feel this way or something."

Burt shook his head gently and closed his eyes, "He's confused," Burt offered, "I don't know if he realizes what he's feeling most of the time, and I don't even know how to begin to help him."

Carole looked at Burt, gently squeezing his thigh, "Begin with just being his father. He thinks the world of you Burt; it's no surprise to anyone."

Burt hoped that would be enough, but his concern for his son's wellbeing and mental status seemed to change daily. It was nearly an hour and a half later-his son still hadn't come downstairs, though he did appear to have finished his shower at this point because the water wasn't running anymore. The knock on the door alerted them to Dr. Leland's arrival.

Carole headed to the door, smiling warmly, "Hi Spencer."

"How's our boys today?" He asked smiling as he waved over to Burt who was sitting on the couch.

"It's been a rough day;" She offered quietly, "Kurt suffered a panic attack today at school."

"Has he ever had them before?" Spencer asked as he took a seat on the edge of the chair near the couch.

Burt looked seriously at the psychologist before, "Yeah, little, back after the car accident…then when his mother died, he's had them off and on since he was about six, but they barely ever happen, so," Burt shrugged, "We take care of them when they occur and don't worry about them the rest of the time.

"All right, so he's at least familiar with the feelings."

"Yes."

"Where is he now?"

"Upstairs," Carole offered.

"I'll go check on him." Spencer headed up the stairs, all the doors were open but on, so Spencer took a guess and knocked on it. He waited a beat and heard a soft 'come in'.

Pushing the door open he saw Kurt lying on his side in a pair of WMHS sweat pants and a hooded sweatshirt. "I hear you had a rough day." He offered as he moved into the room. There was a chair against the wall oppsite of Kurt, so he took a seat in it after closing the door.

"I panicked." Kurt offered. "I couldn't stop it, it swelled so quick-"

"That's okay, how about we talk a little bit about how you felt before that, and the seconds leading into the panic attack itself."

Kurt closed his eyes, not sure he was ready to face this yet. "Can we…" He closed his eyes. "I hate this."

"It's okay, you can take your time Kurt, we don't have to talk about this right now if you don't want to, how about this, you tell me what you want to talk about or if you even wanna talk today."

"I-uh," He closed his eyes, "I'm such a mess," He whispered.

"No, Kurt, you're not a mess, you're dealing with something big right now. That takes it's toll after awhile. Tell you what, I've got another client I'm going to check in on for about an hour or two, lives about ten minutes away. I'll call you in about an hour or so and if you feel like you want to talk, then we'll have a session, otherwise we'll wait until Wednesday. But you only get three passes on these sessions okay?"

"Thanks." He offered quietly.

Spencer smiled as he stood, he knelt in front of Kurt, giving the boy's hand a reassuring squeeze, "Don't lose hope Kurt, this is only the beginning. I have know doubt you're going to come out way ahead in the end." With another squeeze he stood up and left the teen alone.

Kurt closed his eyes, feeling alone again, reaching out to his father's bedside table, he grabbed his cellphone and dialed. "_Yo Hummel_," The greeting on the other line made Kurt smile a little.

"Are you busy?"

"_No, suspension pretty much means that and since ma ain't home for the next couple days I don't really have to worry about it right now_."

"What about Lil?"

"_She's with ma, why what's up dude?_"

"Stop calling me that."

"_Sorry, what's up?_"

"I…I could use a friend…and don't really want to face my prarents yet."

The chuckle on the other end told Kurt that Noah understood, "_I'll be there in five Hummel._"

Kurt smiled and hung up the phone, he didn't know what he and Noah had going on, and he didn't always feel confident about it, but knowing that the teen would soon be here made him feel a lot better.

When Spencer left the house, Burt was about ready to march upstairs and talk to his son, right when the doorbell rang again. Carole opened the door and her eyes grew at the sight before her. Noah stood, bruised lip and swollen cheek an' all. "Hey Mrs. H."

"Noah, what are you doing here?"

"I'm checking on Princess," He offered plainly as he walked into the house and took off his shoes.

Burt glanced over his shoulder, "What the hell happened to you Mohawk?"

"I took one for the team," He stated and he started to head up the stairs.

"Mohawk-"

"I promise Mr. H, nothin' funny, Kurt called." With that he disappeared up to the second floor.

"I don't even know what's going on at this point," Burt offered weakly as he closed his eyes ready to take a nap.

Unlike Spencer, Noah didn't knock, instead he opened the door, offered a smile at the boy who was curled on his side, and climbed onto the bed. He saddled up behind the teen and easily slid his arms around the smaller body. Kurt's back pressed to Puck's front the two cuddled. "Wanna talk about it?"

"I just kicked the pyschologist out-"

Noah chuckled, "I'm not a stranger, sometimes you need to talk to strangers…even though mom always said not to-and sometimes you need to talk to…well to Pucksters."

Kurt shook his head softly and chuckled, "What are we doing, Puck?"

"Cuddling."

Kurt gently slapped his hands that were pressed to his stomach and chest, "I meant overall, not right now. What…are we?"

"We're boys who like boys…or more specifically boys who really like each other. You okay with that?"

"I think so…"

"Dude…sorry, Kurt, I'm really sorry I hurt you, but…let me make it up to you."

"How?"

"Let me treat you like the prince…or princess you really are."

"You want to date?"

Puck nodded against his neck, "That's the general gist of it, yes."

Kurt manuvered carefully, rolling around to face Noah, he looked at the doe brown eyes for a long moment. "I think I'd be okay with that," He offered quietly.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Puck nodded, then scooted off the bed, "Right then, get dressed Princess."

"What?" Kurt asked sitting up on the bed and looking at him.

"You heard me, get dressed, nice pants and the shinest shirt you've got, we're going to breadsticks."

Kurt's eyebrow cocked slightly, "Noah-"

"Ah, call it food therapy, hate the carbs all you want, but they're comfort food and you just said I could date you. I have a job, I just got paid yesterday and you had a rough day. It's date night."

"It'll be busy."

"So if you get uncomfortable we'll leave and not pay," Noah joked grinning.

"Everyone will see us."

"So, we're a couple, we're allowed to do couple things, now go before I have to change you myself-and I don't play nice."

Kurt chuckled, but exited his room all the same. Noah headed into the bathroom to clean up slightly. He then headed downstairs, surprised to see Carole and Burt eating a light dinner of soup and biscuits. "Hope those biscuits are low fat and salt, otherwise Kurt will kill you," Noah stated.

"Why are you here, Mohawk?"

"Because you're son loves me, and there's nothin you can do about it," grinned Noah.

"Love is a very strong word Puckerman-" Burt began, but he was smiling slightly, not that Noah needed to know that.

"Ah, yes it is. We're going on a date."

"What?" Burt stated as he looked at the wayward teen. "He just had a panic attack, are you really sure-"

"Its fine dad," Kurt offered as he stepped into the hallway from his bedroom downstairs. "Really, it's not great, but…I don't need to talk, I need a distraction right now. I think I can handle this."

Burt narrowed his eyes at the two boys, "Back by ten Puckerman." He stated simply. "And I swear to God if you lay a han-"

"Dad, relax, stress test."

"You're my stress test," Burt stated again, causing his son's eyes to roll.

Kurt looked at Noah and smiled, "Better?"

Noah nodded, "Awesome, come on, we've got a date."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Kurt did surprisingly well for having a panic attack earlier that day. He'd had an initial hint of concern when they entered the resteraunt because it had been busy, but Noah had smiled at the hostess-an old friend of his, and requested a quiet table in a corner.

They had a quiet evening together, they were half way through dinner when Kurt received a text from his therapist 'Need anything?"

He smiled and quickly texted back 'I'm good for now, thanks though.' He wasn't great, wasn't even perfect wasn't sure if and when he would be. But he was better, and that was enough right now.

"So suspended?"

Noah nodded, "Unfortunately it means no Glee for two weeks…which you know blows. But Figgins says the only reason I wasn't expelled was because I was defending another student…and while fighting shoulder never be condoned, the deed was still noble or somethin'."

"That does blow," Kurt replied quietly.

"Well, supposedly that Sam kid is finally joinin', he seems cool."

"I think he swings for my team," Kurt offered quietly.

Puck's eyebrows narrowed, "Really? You sure…he didn't strike me as a flamer."

"Hey!" Kurt growled, though only playfully.

"Dude, come on!" Puck stated grinning. "The point is, don't get your hopes up on that one. Besides, you're taken now."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I know," He replied shrugging, "But it'd be nice not to be the only one anymore."

Noah looked at him, "That bothers you doesn't it, you aren't alone Kurt."

"I know…sometimes…" He smiled "Can we talk about something fun, this conversation is kind of a downer."

Noah smiled, "Of course. All the same, sorry I got kicked out of school when you needed someone."

"It's cool, you're mom's gonna kill you though after everything." Kurt smiled as Noah shrugged, but he quickly pushed forward, "Why did you hit him?"

"He was gonna hurt you, isn't that reason enough?"

"I guess….but a single punch would've done it-"

Noah closed his eyes and sighed, "Look Hummel…" Pausing he studied the boy, "I don't really wanna talk about this in public. Are you done, can we maybe…talk somewhere private?"

Kurt nodded, smiling as they paid their bill and headed out of the resteraunt. To his surprise, Noah drove to a small outlook area, it wasn't large and it looked like it had been an old drive in movie. Kurt looked over at Noah as he sat there quietly, "You…everything okay?"

"I exploded today because I haven't been sleeping well lately. Can I be honest with you about something…if you promise not to freak out?"

"I can promise to try not to freak out." Kurt offered quietly, concern for his boyfriend mounting.

Noah looked at the steering wheel, staring heavily into the horn as though he weren't in the car anymore. "I came to the church that morning to pick you up-I know Mercedes was going to drive you…but something told me I needed to be there. So I came…and when I saw Merecedes talking and you nowhere to be seen…I got very nervous." He closed his eyes, the memories flashing through his mind, "Kurt there was blood everywhere…you were so…" He felt his breath begin to quicken, "You were dead…" He took a sahky lung full of air, "I was so angry…and…and scared. I was drenched from head to toe in your blood, and then we were in the waiting room and I exploded again…at the Glee club because…" He shook his head, "I can't get the image out of my mind. I keep trying but all I see is you lying there dead and I keep thinking I've lost my shot, he's gone and now I have to live without him…"

Kurt reached out, placing a tenantive hand on Noah's leg, which drew the boy's attention from his memories. "I am here, and I am alive. You didn't lose me Noah. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry," Noah whispered and for the first time in Kurt's memory he got to be the shoulder someone cried on as he held Noah.

It was some twenty minutes later after a little more talk, that Kurt realized it was almost ten, "I should get home," He offered quietly. Noah nodded and started the car. When they pulled up to the front of the house, it was only a little after ten, but the living room light was still on. Kurt looked at Noah and smiled, "Thanks for a good night."

"Sorry for loosing it," He offered quietly.

"You're not invincible Puckerman, don't force yourself into that. Really, thank you."

Noah nodded, smiling as Kurt gave him a quick kiss and then got out of the car. Noah watched him all the way to the door, before sighing and leaning his head against the steering wheel.

Kurt smiled as he stepped into the house. "You're late," Burt Hummel's voice echoed from the living room.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Yeah by five minutes," He stated as he stepped into the living room. His father wasn't mad at him, he was grinning as he lay sprawled on the couch. "I hope you're resting."

"Haven't moved an inch since Carole left. How was your date?" He asked grinning as his son took a seat on the chair next to the couch.

"Dad-"

"What, I'm supporting, seriously, how'd it go?"

"Fine." He stated.

Burt nodded, "Oh come on," He whined. "Where did you go, what did you do?"

"He took me to breadsticks, we talked…and then we talked some more."

"Sounds very…simple for Puckerman's tastes."

Kurt shrugged, not willing to divulge that Noah was suffering after everything as well. "Yeah, but it was kind of nice."

"Good. You need to talk or anything?"

"About?"

Burt rolled his eyes, "I don't know about today, the panic attack, anything that's on your mind kiddo?"

"Are you implying something? Do I need to be worried?"

"No, but sometimes I worry about you. I just wanna make sure everything is okay, or at least not terrible."

Kurt looked at him, "This isn't about that suicide thing is it, because I told you I wasn't acutally going to do it."

Burt took a deep breath and began to shift, his son tried to stop him almost immediately, "No, come here," He stated as he sat all the way up, letting his son join him on the couch. "Kurt, suicide is kind of a big deal."

"No really," Kurt couldn't resist.

His father sighed, "Listen up for a moment. The basic fact is that…I worry about you Kurt, I have since the day your mom told me she was pregnant with you. It's a father's perogative to worry about you. And while lots of teens who are stressed or worried about stuff may have it flit across their mind from time to time, thinking about it...doesn't make parents very comfortable, because they worried they're doing something wrong. I know that you get lonely, and scared and lots of other emotions that can't even be described, but that doesn't mean you have to go at this alone."

"I'm fine dad, really."

"No you aren't, Kurt. And no one says you have to be, I simply want to make sure that you're good enough that I shouldn't expect the worse in a month or two from now."

"Sometimes…" Kurt took a deep breath, he hated feeling this cornered into being open. But it was his father, the problem was lately he felt a mixture of wanting to be around his father and wanting to be as far away from him as possible. "Sometimes I get overwhelmed."

"Why don't you talk to me about it?" Burt asked softly.

Kurt sighed and closed his eyes, "Dad-"

"Kurt, I'm your father, I get that you're trying to do that independent teenager thing, and I do understand you wanting to not discuss everything, but Kurt there are some things I need you to tell me you're going through." When Kurt didn't look at him or seem to understand, he continued.

"I can deal-"

"No you can't," Burt was getting frustrated, he wasn't supposed to stress after everything he'd been through, but damn it if his kid couldn't try the patience of a saint some days. "No Kurt, you're sixteen years old-"

"Dad you're stre-"

"Listen to me," Burt stated, shaking his son weakly, "How do you think that makes me feel? Huh, how do you think I feel when you don't tell me what you go through? I'm all for you trying to handle things on your own, but when you don't come to me, it makes me feel like I'm a bad father who can't take care of myself."

"Dad that's not-"

"I realize that isn't the point, but that's how I feel. How do you think I feel, how Carole would feel if we came home one day and found you dead-" Burt's eyes began to grow damp, he looked at his son and shook his head. "Sometimes you're so damn stubborn." He huffed.

Kurt looked at him, eyes watering, he shook slightly at his father's words. "Dad I-"

"No, you expect me to be able to trust you, how am I supposed to do that when you can't trust me to talk about stuff to?" He was trying to keep his voice even.

Kurt felt his heart quickening again, he slammed his eyes shut, "I…" Shaking his head he stood, suddenly afraid he was going to cause his father more pain. He turned on his heel and ran out the door. Jumping into his SUV he quickly pulled out of the driveway, tears clouding his vision.

Burt sighe das he leaned back against the couch, boy did he suck at being a father or at least he felt like it.

Kurt didn't know where he'd ended up until he arrived in front of Noah's house, it had started to rain, Kurt quickly threw his car door opened and headed to the front door, hands shoved in his pockets. He knocked on the door, beginning to feel cold and stupid for the way he'd acted towards his father. His mind began to race what if his father had another heart attack-

The door swung open and Noah stood before him with no shirt, "You're drenched," He grabbed the boy and pulled him inside. He paded into the living room grabbing a towel from the couch and wrapping it around the teen, "I just left you and you were fine, you're crying, what happened?"

Kurt shook his head, "I'm sorry, I…I just needed to get out."

"Okay," Noah offered as he guided Kurt to the kitchen and sat him down. He opened a cupboard over the fridge pulling out a small bottle of vodka, he poured a little in a glass and handed it to Kurt.

"What?"

"Just drink it, it might calm your nerves a little."

Kurt looked at him skeptically and threw it back, grimacing and coughing at the burn. He felt it burn it's way through his body, warming him slightly.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, "I should call dad-we…we were arguging."

"I'll call him now," Noah offered, "You sit here and dry off a little okay?'

Noah headed back into the living room, the call was quick and prompt, Noah promised to bring his boyfriend back soon. He padded back into the kitchen where Kurt was crying a little, but looked a little better. "What happened?"

"Wanna talk about why you decided to drive here in a monsoon?"

Kurt gave a noncommittal shrug. "Dad and I started talking, and he's worried about me…and I…I've contemplated suicide, and he was afraid that I'm hiding too much from him and it all just happened at once and I got upset and-."

"Hey," Noah offered quietly, "Take a deep breath, your dad isn't here right now, you aren't in trouble, just talk to me."

"I'm scared Noah."

"Of what?"

Kurt gave a terrified chuckle, "What am I not afraid of, I'm scared if I step one toe out of line, dad's gonna have a heart attack and won't survive, I'm afarid I'm going to die…"

"Did you tell him that?"

"No."

"Chicken," Puck joked as Kurt shoved him for it. "Look Hum-Kurt, the only way you're going to get through this is if you come clean to your dad. It's pretty much been an impossibly rough four weeks and I think you're putting a lot of stress on yourself. While your father may still be weak after this, he's not dead, and he's definitely not a weak person."

"What if I am?"

Noah gave him a 'duh' look. "Kurt you're the only guy I know who goes through dumpster dives, swirlies, and gets the crap beat out of him every day and bounces back snappier than ever. You aren't weak dude."

"Don't call me dude."

Puck chuckled softly, "Give yourself a break Kurt, tell you what, the rain's let up a bit, I'll drive you home, maybe you can talk to your dad about what's really got you so upset."

"You know what the worst part about the last month has been?"

"Hmm?"

"I've never felt so alone or helpless. I'm always the one in control, but I felt like I was spiraling more and more out of control and up until you asked, no one even seemed to…notice or care. They were all more concerned about converting me rather than…than asking me how I was coping, if I needed a huge, whether I was eating, sleeping, where I was living…how I was handling my…" He closed his eyes, "The assult. No one came to visit but you and dad and occasionally Carole."

"I think we've all gotten so used to you being this independent guy who can take care of himself that none of really considered if you actually could."

"I can't…and it terrifies me, I want to think I'm so mature and adult…but…"

"You're just a kid?"

"Yeah." He was mildly surprised when Noah wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Pulling the boy closer, Noah leaned his head against Kurt's. "I'm scared." He murmured. "Scared that dad's gonna die and I'm going to be left alone. I'll have no one Noah…"

"You'll have me, and mom and Lil."

"I know," He whispered. "But dad…"

"He's your dad. Believe me dude, I get it."

o0o

It was nearing eleven when Noah showed up with Kurt. Burt answered the door and gave a short smile, "Hi Noah," He greeted softly.

"Hey Mr. H, I'll see you later Kurt," Noah said quietly, patting his friend on the back he headed back to his truck.

"You didn't drive the Navigator?"

Kurt shrugged as he stepped into the house, "Noah was worried I wasn't well enough to drive back. Said he'd bring it to school tomorrow and let me give him a ride home…"

Burt nodded, appreciating Noah's gestures. He looked at his son, "So…you all right?"

Kurt stepped into the kitchen, not really sure how to begin, "Honestly no." Kurt replied softly. Burt remained silent for a moment as he sat down in the kitchen chair.

"Want to talk?" Burt's question was simple and while Kurt wasn't sure he was ready, he honestly did want to.

Taking a seat opposite his father at the table, he took a slow breath, "I'm…I'm going to try and open up…but please don't stop me because I'm honestly not sure I have what it takes to say all of this twice." Burt nodded, remaining silent, so Kurt continued "I haven't slept longer than two hours for the past three weeks because every time I close my eyes I dream that you're gone…or that something bad happens to me before you wake up…or I dream about our argument and that those will be the last words I ever said to you. I can't eat because I constantly feel sick over what I said, and guilty that I'm not doing enough to make your life easy, and I feel guilty that you had the heart attack in the first place. I can't focus on my studies because I'm terrified when I'm at school you'll die, I'm afraid you're really still in the coma and that this is all a dream…I'm scared that one morning I'll wake up to find you dead in bed or in the chair-or at work and that there won't be any comas this time…just a funeral and I'm terrified to be alone now," Kurt felt the tears on his cheeks over his words, but he pushed forward, if he didn't get it all out now he probably never would. "I'm so scared that maybe you got lucky this time but what about next time? I'm scared of everything now, cars, planes, hospitals, I'm scared that you're going to be gone and I won't have spent enough time with you to make it really worth it. I'm so afraid to be without you, that I'm physically sick. And I got into the pattern of doing everything around the house and the shop because it was the only way to really get my mind off of it, but even then I was terrified you wouldn't ever be around to help me again. I'm so scared I'm going to be hurt or killed and then you'll die, I'm so afraid that I'm going to be hurt or…or raped and I don't wanna die and I've gotten so used to worrying, now I can't seem to stop, and it's killing me dad," His final words were sobbed out.

Burt gently pulled his son by the elbow until the boy was curled against his side. He then wrapped both his arms around his son. And Kurt cried, rubbing the boy's back he whispered in to his son gently, "Just cry son." He murmured as he rocked him back and forth. "Let it out."

Burt gently ran his hands through the normally perfectly coiffed hair. "It's okay son."

After a few sniffles, Kurt straightened slightly and sighed weakly, "I'm sorry." He whispered.

Burt shook his head, "No, don't apologize, your fears are valid, Kurt. Want to hear what scares me?"

Kurt looked at his father for a long moment and gave a slow nod. "I've never been more scared when they told me you'd been…the victim of a hate crime, that you may never wake up and then when you got sick….I'm afraid that you'll be killed at school or after, I'm always so afraid to watch you walk out that door, thinking maybe this will be the day you don't come home. I'm scared that while I'm a good dad, that maybe I'm not good enough. The heart attack scared me Kurt, more than I'm willing to admit, it's one thing when I get hurt on the job, or cut myself or something like that, even a car accident there is some fault to that…but this was my own body…rebelling against me."

Kurt was almost disturbed how shaken his father looked. "I made a pact a long time ago, Kurt. I'll do everything in my power to make sure you're never left alone. When your mother died there was only one option for me, and that was make sure you were always taken care of. I'm so sorry you had to go through all this pain son."

He reached blindly, wrapping his arms around his father's neck. Burt wrapped his own arms around his son's torso, holding him for a long time, and while Burt didn't believe in God, and didn't always believe in Heaven, he said a silent thanks to whoever or whatever was listening for the amazing boy he held in his arms. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Burt felt reassured for the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe they'd be back to normal again.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: Seriously, I'm so sorry for the delay this is the last chapter then an epilogue, enjoy my friends and really I'm sorry it took so long. **

**Chapter Eighteen**

Noah returned to school two weeks later. Kurt was waiting at his locker, any hints of the past six weeks had been washed away by all the time he'd spent moisturizing. The past two weeks-despite Noah's grounding the final week, had gone fairly quickly and from what he'd heard, Kurt was adjust fine with everything. The first full week of school had been a bumpy ride, but with Karofsky expelled now, things were sailing smooth for once.

Noah, not willing to share it with anyone, was pleased with how well Kurt was doing. Burt was on the mend and there were rumors he'd be returning to the shop next week for just office work, he could return to full work within another six weeks depending on how well he did on his stress test next Friday.

Kurt seemed to have a slightly happier outlook on everything as well; Noah hoped that meant that Kurt and his father had discussed some things, because while he was willing to wait for Kurt, Noah didn't want to wait forever, he wanted to take the boy to homecoming in another week.

Finn headed down a different part of his hallway, having spotted his girlfriend, while Noah caught up the last several inches with Kurt, "You know the Homecoming dance is coming up soon."

Kurt glanced over at his friend, "Noah-"

"Before you say no, at least consider this, you said you were worried that I'd be a pity fuck-but the Puckster pities no one, and I honestly want to be with you…do I know how long, heck no. We're seventeen and eighteen. I do know that I'm willing to give this…us a shot at awesomeness-"

Kurt looked at Puck and felt his heart warm slightly, "I'll consider it and let you know by Friday, deal?"

"Deal dude."

Kurt nodded and watched the jock walk away, still grinning like an idiot. Kurt shook his head and quickly opened his locker. Mercedes came over to him and smiled, "Hey Kurt, how are you?"

Kurt shut his locker but smiled at her, "I'm exhausted beyond belief, but I'm doing better. Thank you."

"Listen…we…we were spoke to on tolerance shortly before you…well after everything that happened, and I know we've been slightly awkward around each other the past several weeks and I just wanted to apologize for pushing my beliefs on you. That was wrong of me."

Kurt nodded, "It was, but I appreciate the apology. Equally, I'd like to apologize for being so snappy about it- while I don't believe at God and I was a little offended, what you guys were doing was all you knew and I should've appreciated it for what it was…a hand. I'm not going to lie, I'm still a little upset by everything, but I promise I'll get there."

"Cool," She offered, "Wanna walk with me to math?"

"Absolutely," He grinned slipping his arm through hers and heading down the hallway with her. His head held high, what he said had been true, he was still very tired, and his appetite hadn't completely returned, but his father had gotten texting on his phone yesterday and promised to check in every once in awhile to let him know how he was doing-for now that was just enough for the Hummel men.

After school Kurt headed to the garage, he greeted Carl with a great big smile, "How is he?" Kurt asked.

"He's great kid, looks thrilled to be back, and damn if it ain't great to see him, he's doin' good."

"No heavy-"

"He hasn't left the office since lunch and that was to get us all sandwhiches-you'll also be happy to know he chose to get a wrap-I hear it even had lettuce."

"Oooh, good for him. Thanks Carl."

Carl smiled as he looked at the boy, "Come on kid, you and your dad are the only family I got. I get it kiddo."

"I'll be out in a minute." With that, Kurt headed into the office, pleased to see his father did indeed look much better as he sat behind the desk.

"Jesus are we behind-even with all the work you did, which nicely done by the way. How was school?"

"School," Kurt replied with a shrug. "I got asked to Homecoming?"

Burt's eyebrows shot up as he folded his hands in front of himself and looked at his son, "Anyone I know?" He asked, already knowing full well who it was.

"Noah."

"And?"

Kurt shrugged, "I told him I'd give him a definite answer by Friday."

"You have to think about this?"

Kurt chuckled softly, "No, course not. I'm going," Kurt grinned, "Just playin' a little hard to get. I wanna make him sweat."

Burt laughed at that as he shook his head, "You are your mother. So I though maybe we could invite a couple of your friends to Friday night dinner if you wanted-"

"Actually dad, I was hoping it could sort of just be you, me and maybe Carole."

"What about Finn-"

"Rachael asked him out already and he said yes. They're going to watch some new movie." Kurt shrugged, "Maybe the three of us could go out…like we used to when mom was alive?"

"I think Carole would feel honored, I'll ask her tonight. Now, if you're feeling up to it, I need you to do two oil changes and run some quick inventory."

"Can do."

Burt watched his son head out the door and he smiled. Shaking his head slowly he pulled his cell phone out and dialed. "Hey, it's me. I'm all right, how are you?" He smiled, "Kurt was wondering if you'd like to join him and I on Friday night dinner? Well apparently Finn has a date with Rachael, so he wanted it to just be the three of us. I know that's what I thought. Sounds good, love you too. Bye."

o0o

"Hummel!" Noah hurried towards the boy, Friday was done, and school was letting out, Finn was taking his truck and Rachael to a movie, everyone else was heading their own way, but Hummel had promised him one thing. "Kurt?" He stated stepping up to the teen.

"Hi Noah, how can I help you?" Kurt antagonized the man, loving that wrinkle crease in his forehead.

"Dude, the homecoming dance is next weekend-I need to know what colors to coordinate with an-"

"Why, Noah Puckerman, are you saying you're actually going to rise to the occasion."

"And many more sweet lips, just say the word."

"And what word would that be."

"You'll be my date."

"That's actually four words."

Noah groaned, "This is worse than blue balls."

Kurt laughed shaking his head; he closed his locker door and looked at the teen that was standing so close, "I'll go with you on a couple agreements."

"Okay…"

"First, you promise not to sext anyone but me for however long our relationship lasts-"

"Done." Noah stated, girls were a distraction from Kurt, he didn't need them, as long as he had Kurt.

Kurt seemed surprised by the instant agreement, but didn't falter, "Second, you are willing to wait for me to be ready. I'm not saying no sex ever…I'm simply saying when I'm ready."

"Done, I'll even let you decide when you call us boyfriends."

Kurt smiled deciding to be a little bad, "Oh Noah, we already are," He whispered as he leaned up and planted the lightest kiss on the jock's lips before hurrying away to his SUV, leaving Noah there speechless.

Kurt got home to the smell of grilled chicken, broccoli, and something else. He stepped into the kitchen to see Burt and Carole cooking over the stove laughing. Pausing he smiled, he could remember his mom and dad doing the same thing, looking just as happy. He hoped she saw how happy dad was, he deserved to be happy. "Hi, anything I can help with?" He questioned setting his own bag down.

"Hi sweetie!" Carole greeted, giving him an unexpected, but not unwelcome hug.

"Hey kid how was school?"

"Great!"

"Did you finally tell Puckerman?"

"Tell Noah what?" Carole asked smiling. She'd had a haunch about those two.

Kurt nodded, "Yep, and we're going to Homecoming next weekend!"

Carole squealed as she hugged Kurt again, he had the feeling he'd have to get used to this again, but he returned the hug gratefully. "Can I help you pick a tux-Finn refuses to get a new one."

"Of course you can! Noah might even need some help!"

"Just be ready for a ridiculous amount of pictures," Burt replied as they began to set the table. "So Carole made a delicious dinner, that's full of all the things I'm actually allowed to eat-and it smells amazing."

After dinner had ended they retired to the living room to watch a movie, something that Carole and Kurt had picked, but Burt didn't mind so much. Burt chose to sit on the couch with his girlfriend and son. At some point during the movie, Kurt had gone from sitting up right to lying down on the couch with his feet pillowed in Carole's lap and head on Burt's knee. The boy was fast sleep before the movie was over. Burt looked down at his son and smiled.

"I see he's still completely exhausted."

"Yeah, it comes and it goes, he's sleeping about four or five hours now instead of just two, so he's getting better."

"What about his dad?"

Burt smiled warmly, "I'm hangin' in there, sleeping pretty steadily, I feel like after a coma I should be completely all rested up." Burt offered as he gently ran his over Kurt's hair.

"So…Burt, I've been doing some thinking, and if this is completely out there, you have the right to say no…but after everything we've been through…" She paused looking at him. "Burt, I want to marry you, I want you to marry me."

He smiled at her, "I've been thinking the same thing."

"Really?"

Chuckling he leaned as far as he could without disturbing his son, "Yeah, don't act so surprised, you're quite the catch," He replied kissing her lips.

"Nice to see some things don't change," Finn's voice interrupted them as he stepped into the house.

Burt smiled at Finn, as did Carole. "How was your date honey?"

"Good, Kurt's asleep-it's barely eleven."

"He's had a rough few weeks."

"Yeah, but to be fair he needs to sleep in a bed," Burt gently shook his son's shoulder, "Come on kiddo, bed time."

Kurt groaned and rolled over, he looked at his dad, as if confused for a moment then nodded. "Night dad, night mom," he murmured as he stood and made his way downstairs. Everyone but the teen froze. Burt looked over to see Carole had tears in her eyes, but a warm smile on her face. Finn looked only slightly weirded out, but even Burt couldn't help but smile.

"I wouldn't get used to it-" Burt offered gently.

"I won't," She promised, "But it was nice to hear after everything."

Burt could agree to that. Carole began to get up and gather her things, Burt reached out, grabbing her hand gently, "Stay," He whispered. "Tonight, I've missed you. Finn can sleep in the extra room-"

Finn smiled, "I'd like that."

Carole nodded, "A family?"

"We are a family, we'll wake up bright and early tomorrow morning, make pancakes that are terribly healthy and laugh about Kurt when he's sleepy."

Carole hugged her future husband close, "I'd love that."

Finn made a groan and headed upstairs as his parents began to kiss deeply. "Night," He called before closing the bedroom door.


End file.
